Old pictures, thoughts and memories

Found some 'old' picture CD's while going through some old boxes and found these. While it doesn't look like I'll be taking any trips in the near future, my traveling foot is itching. So I thought I would post some of them, and also give you an update as to what God has been doing recently.

I think its been partially due to the fact that there's been some helpful attempts to cure me and a good friend of mine of that horrid condition, sans husband. And my reaction is to either take them to school as to why that is not helpful, or to simply run away. I know, neither of which are helpful or functional... but its still my immediate reaction.

While she and I both appreciate the good intentions behind the gestures, neither of us see the need for concern from anyone, as the Lord has been doing a huge work in both of us as far as finding our contentment and fulfillment in Christ alone. May sound over spiritual, but that is what it is. And God has blessed us with some great friends.

If we weren't single, I don't think we could enjoy all the platonic friendships God has been showering us with.

Or be available for all the different ministry opportunities that keep coming our way. Its been weird having to turn down stuff the last few weeks. Saturdays are crazy, and there's always opportunities to fill them with more stuff.

While I'm thankful that there is too much instead of not enough, its been a new challenge trying to discern what to keep and what to cut out, how to manage time... balancing relationships of all kinds with what needs to get done.

And learning the difference between what I NEED and what I WANT. And how to clearly represent the difference both to myself and others when talking about it. Or learning how to just not talk about it at all, except in prayer.

And seeing the Lord provide tiny gestures of compassion and grace in small things, and thanking Him for them.
And trying to be still and at peace so that I can overflow with blessings upon others. I've really been convicted recently of trying to discern if what I'm saying is edifying or just jabbering. I don't have it down to a fine art by any means. Its funny how when I have the best of intentions, things are still so poorly communicated. I'm not sure if thats a lack on my part or others' issues, and I've been praying about it.
(And I'm feeling rather melodramatic right now because I've got these cool pictures that I took a couple years ago that I really feel should be on some halmark card somewhere, and I'm listening to the 'Blood Diamond' soundtrack ;-) And its late and I've had a crazy busy fun day with waaaay too much sugar in it and a ton of different accents. :-D)

There's something really nice about typing with the lights off with it raining gently outside in the dark with good instrumental music with a minor key's lilt to it. :-)

We read through the book of Romans this evening, and then shared some interesting stories. A Pastor was beaten up in Rajasthan, India a few days ago, and his church is really scared right now. A Christian girl was kidnapped in a Muslim country... a thousand Pakistani's came to Christ last week... a church leader or two was assassinated in Pakistan. So we prayed for them, we prayed for us...
We prayed for where God is going to take us in the future and that no matter what we would be faithful and a light for Christ. On the one hand it was rather intimidating, asking for these things, knowing that when one submits to the Lord, anything will happen. But at the same time it was exhilarating, knowing that when one is submitted to the Lord, anything will happen! And it will be His will!!
And I wondered once again, thinking about where my family has been and is and where I have been and am... why does God give an extra measure of Grace and provision and comfort to some, despite being in the midst of the Fire... while others feel left alone by Him? And one of my dear friends said to me, "you cannot ask God 'why this and not that,' you can only thank Him for what is and seek to be faithful to those who don't have."
I was talking with another friend last night and we were talking about church leadership and dysfunction amongst laity and how to be a Christian serving in a secular workplace without being obnoxious for the Faith and at the same time not being invisible for the Gospel. Its a fine line and we didn't figure it out, although I did determine by the end of it that people are gonna be mad either way, so mights as well have them mad at you for holding onto the Truth rather than compromising, feeling guilty and STILL having people mad at you.

And I have concluded I have no idea what God is going to do with my future. My friend laughed and said in mock exasperation as I talked animatedly about yet ANOTHER mission field in ANOTHER country, 'I hear a different country from you every time we speak! You just can't make up your mind, can you?' Well.. they all need the Gospel and sound COOL as far as culture and language and clothing go, so...

All that to say I don't know exactly what God is doing or where He is taking me or what is going to happen in the future. But I do know that He is giving me opportunities for Sanctification. And I also know I miss Magda's coffee. And I miss Geza and I arguing about beverage health benefits or lack thereof. And I miss wandering the village, meeting familiar faces and being greeted by a handshake. But I know I'm where God wants me, and I know that He has a purpose and is blessing me on a daily basis with new friends and old friendships deepening and new opportunities opening up. And I'm excited to see what God has.

Reminiscenses, Rabbits, and Rickshaw essays

I always mentally refer to them as 'the Tornado kids."
Thats because whatever room they've been in, it looks like a tornado went through there.
The last time I walked into a room they had subjected to their energy, we found soda spilled on the table and the floor, its carton woefully crunched in the middle of the table; cereal that I had bought for the morning scattered everywhere with the wrappers tossed about, bread crumbs sprinkled around, and various clothes articles dropped here and there. And that was just the kitchen.
Ramona and I took turns snarling while we cleaned up the carnage and tried to figure out what we were going to eat, because our plans for dinner had been scarfed down amidst the sprinkling and spilling and scattering.
However, the three Caba kids did have redeeming qualities. When I saw them next and almost boxed their ears, they all pulled the Compassion Poster Child look and Smiles International grins and cooed their apologies along with offering the small peace offering tokens, promising to be good children. I think there might have even been some flowers involved.
None of them were biologically related yet they all somehow ended up with similar eyes and their voices sounded the same. It was funny because none of them were even from the same ethnicity let alone family. But they all referred to Corina as 'Mami" and all were slightly afraid of the oldest, Ramona (one of my best friends in Romania) and all were high energy, loud, bossy, funny, and had a talent for causing chaos wherever they went but were so sincerely charming and remorseful when caught.
One time when I was there, Sarah was quite put out that I was only staying for a few days. The last time she had seen me I had stayed six months. Corina and Ramona were dissapointed but understood that Mission trips have to be scheduled around the Mission, not the trip, and there weren't any kids at the orphanage or really anything that I could help with other than drinking coffee with Corina and talking and laughing. (Sometimes just reminding people in Ministry that there are level-headed people who don't hate you or aren't out to kill you or swindle you can be very ministering)
Anyway Sarah kept interuppting to ask why I was only staying a few days. My Romanian grammer is awful and my vocabulary comes and goes and often is confused with Hungarian that I also speak when in Transylvania. But the Caba kids were always very patient and, for the most part, pursued understanding with me and didn't manipulate the language barrier to their own ends.
I tried to explain that I was going to college in the fall and needed to go home after working with the Gypsy church plants so I could spend a little more time with my family and make money. The big take away for Sarah was that I needed money. So she scampered off, emptied her piggy bank, and returned with two fistfulls of coinage.
"Is this enough?" She asked, her brown eyes doe-like and pitiful.
Corina explained that I needed DOLLARS, not Romanian coins, and that certainly wasn't enough, please stop interrupting. Sarah sighed and left Corina and I to finish our conversation.
Today I got on Yahoo chat and saw Corina's ID online. I haven't talked with her for a while and hoped it was her online, but it turned out to be her youngest, David.
He wanted me to go Skiing with them after Christmas.
Now skiing in Transylvania sounds like something I would L-O-V-E to do, however not something financially possible at this point in life.
David REALLY really wanted me to come. He even offered to dip into his savings for a new bike and help pay for the ticket.
I thanked him for the generous offer, however the bike fund amounted to about a twentieth of the ticket cost, or simply the fees the airlines charge for checked baggage these days.
He was VERY dissapointed I couldn't use his bike money.
I've been really missing Romania the last few months. The magenta landscapes, the friendly villagers, the curious traditions and mindsets, the beautiful language, the good food, the quaint coffee shops and stores, my friends scattered throughout the countryside.
The trouble has been the last year my family and I have been put through the wringer on several leves. I'm sensing the season of pain is coming to a close, and its left us sort of gasping for a breath. I'm just tired. A couple of people have asked me where I want to go and what I want to do and my answer has been mentally, "Move successfully from survival mode to thrive mode!!!"
Its just been a long season of rearranging priorities and mindsets and worldviews and misunderstandings and clearing up arguments and realizing stuff about myself and trying to repent and mature and apologize and make up and justify or figure out etc.
It would be so nice to go back to the village; the place where Time moves in a circle instead of a line and certain things don't change no matter what. Where I can just wander and observe.
My grades have been slipping the last two semesters and a couple of people have told me I need to slow down. The trouble is my scholarship ends at the end of spring 2012, so I've been trying to decide between continuing the pattern of blasting through or taking it a little more slowly, adding another year, and doing things WELL. Both options have about the same amount of pro's and con's. Its been bugging me for a couple of months now, and there's no clear answer in sight.
All that to say, I'd really like to pack my family up and escape to the land of the Tornado Kids.

Barring that, I'd like my exhaustion towards books to go away so I could get focused on reading for my J-term (the Theology has been a painful blend of infatuation and apathy for me the last week). Or at least finish Elisabeth Elliot's biography on Amy Carmichael - which I've been working on since summer. So far my response to books has been to blithely ignore it and watch DVD episodes of "NCIS" with mom three-at-a-time. ;-)

Anyhoo. It was fun chatting in Romanian with David. Now I need to go find my brother so he can show me which trees on the property need 'wrapped'. Not with Christmas paper, with this guaze-type-stuff designed to keep away rabbits and deer.

Apologies to those who have wanted me to post more regularly on here. However, my attitude towards the written word in general has been one of classic burn-out. The 25-page paper I had to write the last week of school kinda took it out of me for a while. :-)
Will try to do better, however the computer is in high demand as my 16-year-old brother is also trying to finish chemistry homework, and the 10 year old has had multiple research papers to write on Vikings, Copper, and Rickshaws. He's writing 1-page essays and I am highly envious. I have mostly upper-level classes next semester; I'm looking forward to all of them, but I'm also expecting plenty of papers due for them all. And they won't be little piddle-ee-dink one pagers either.

~Princess Ouch~

paths and light

It was that horrible part of the month when the moon didn't rise for a few days. Because it was winter, the stars were veiled in the night sky. The sidewalk was an example of the depravity of mankind and a testimony to Communist quality (or lack thereof) and the cobblestones peeking out underneath the gaping holes in the road's blacktop might have been set down by the Romans in BC days. The road and the sidewalk were separated by a 10-foot deep ditch filled with snow sludge, cow manure, dirt washed off from the nearby fields, and last summer's grass.
And pre-European Union Transylvania did not believe in street lights!!!!
My host sister had been walking this life-threatening trail since she could walk and remembered when many of the snags and cracks had formed. She walked with confidence, never breaking her stride, matter-of-factly blazing the trail in front of us, plunging into the inky blackness that opened before us as we left the church.
I, however, was not nearly so confident.
First of all, the crags, snags, and jags of the way in which we were traveling spelled death to my American feet, unaccustomed as they were to walking everywhere we went, let alone on that kind of byway.
Second, I will admit this: I just don't like dark. I mean, I like it when I am trying to fall asleep. Thats it. Dim, sure. Night time with night lights where teeny specks of lumination glow and bring warm fuzzy feelings, sure. Pitch black? Forget it.

So I slowed down. In fact, I barely creeped forward. My host brother walking behind me almost crashed into me.
"NA!" He exclaimed in surprise. Our fearless leader turned around in surprise, but didn't see a reason for the interjection, so resumed her pace. I was too proud to ask her to slow down, because then I'd have to admit my fear of the dark, and the sidewalk, and I wasn't about to do that. (I've had a few years of sanctification since this took place ;-D)
Hungarians are an observant bunch. As I was picking my way, trying to speed up but not trip, suddenly a blinding light illuminated my path. It seriously was really really bright at first. I turned with surprise to see what it was.
My host brother had turned on his cell phone, which gave off a very very dim light, and was holding it over my shoulder so that I could see where I was going.
The thing is, cell phones 5 years back did not give off the brightest light.
However, my eyes were starting to adjust to the dark dark darkness of that Transylvanian winter night. So even a little light was almost overwhelming.
I was sooo grateful for that light. I could see where I was going!!!!

However, I realized I couldn't see that far ahead of me. In fact, just barely ahead of where I wanted to plant my feet next as I picked up my stride. However, it didn't matter, as I knew my guide knew where we were going, and I had a light held by someone I trusted who was making sure I didn't trip. Showing me what to do just then.

Now, I'm utilizing poetic license here to slightly dramatize the situation, as it illustrates a dilemma I've been struggling with for the last few months.
Gosh darn it, I knew where I was supposed to go and who I was gonna minister to, and how, and somewhat when.
However, the chain of events starting almost exactly a year ago have completely incinerated all such plans.
Its slightly irritating.

Today I sang with the college choir at the Seminary chapel. Before we started I noticed a couple I have seen at my church. The husband is deaf and the wife is hearing. I haven't had a chance to talk with them yet, but took the opportunity when we took a five minute break right before the chapel started to run say hi.
I haven't practiced my Signing in over a year.
But both were thrilled to meet a fellow 'Signer'
The husband watched us while we talked and signed at the same time so he could follow our conversation and the wife asked what I was studying. I told her missions.
"Have you thought about Deaf Missions?" (a new focus the International Mission Board has been emphasizing recently, as there is a huge need for Deaf Ministries overseas)
"Yeah I've thought about it. I'm a little overwhelmed right now with all the different options I have though."
"Well, how much longer do you have at school?"
"After this semester a year and a half." (suppressed squawk of shock, thrill, pride, and terror at that statement)
She laughed and her signing became a full-bodied expression.
"Honey you have TIME! God will show you at the right moment what to do and not before."
We laughed.

At the beginning of the semester I was griping to a guy friend my dilemma of not knowing the specifics of what God was doing in my life, why such intense refinement, why did my dreams and plans have to be shattered.
I love this friend because he is arguably brilliant yet very unassuming about it. He's one of those throw-back hippies who expect people to act smart and logically and don't have the time of day for those who don't. It can be irritating of course but also very helpful.
"You know, I really struggled with that too. Why did God send me to the Mission Field and have me fall in love with it right before my health completely broke? I can't live far from American medicine; I'll die without it now. God knew that. He also knew I would fall in love with South American when He sent me. It drove me nuts for a while. God could heal me. He doesn't. Why? And God kept bringing me the verse in Psalm 119:105 "Your Word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path." That frustrated me because I was like, 'God! I AM reading Your word! I don't get it!' And then I thought about what kind of lights they used back then. Really small hand held oil lamps that only lit up the path directly in front of you. And I realized, when God gives you direction He only gives you enough for what is directly in front of you."
In Exodus 16, Israel complains because they don't have food. So in verse 4 the Lord tells Moses that He is going to rain Manna down from Heaven. (Manna is a Hebrew word that has been transliterated because saying "Manna" sounds better than saying "What is it" which is what Manna means. Manna = what is it. See verse 14-15)
"...and the people shall go out and gather a day's portion every day, that I may test them, whether they will walk in my law or not. On the sixth day, when they prepare what they bring in, it will be twice as much as they gather daily." (Exodus 16:4-5)
It has always struck me that God only allowed the Israelites to collect the day's portion of food. Only on the Sabbath - the day they were to rest and reflect on God's goodness - could they gather enough for two days.
I find myself wanting enough for today and tomorrow. However God also said that He was going to test the Israelite's faith by limiting them to one day. They, unfortunately rather predictably, failed the test and gathered enough for two days, frustrating Moses and witnessing the Lord making their food moldy, unclean, and just plain gross.
Its not a nasty test, its just an example to me of my lack of faith, which is just as appalling as that mess of worms and mold the Manna turned into.
Proverbs 4:18 says "But the path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until full day."
Dawn doesn't come all at once. It starts as a very small tiny light on the horizon. Barely clouding the stars. Then it grows slowly, easing back the blanket of stars, chasing them to the opposite horizon as the various morning colors slowly overtake the sky. First the velvety black blue of the outer space the stars peek out from, then a lighter blue and bright purples, and then the warm orange and reds that announce the sun is about to come up.
But it starts slowly. Its mistakeable for something else. But then, agonizingly slow it seems at first, or unnoticeably, suddenly things are not shadows and dark shapes anymore, but merely dim, and you can see whats in front of you, and then you see them clearly.

"For the LORD gives wisdom; from His mouth come knowledge

and understanding; He stores up sound wisdom for the upright;

He is a shield to those who walk in integrity, guarding the paths

of justice and watching over the ways of His saints. Then you will

understand righteousness and justice and equity, every good path;

for wisdom will come into your heart, and knowledge will be

pleasant to your soul; discretion will watch over you, understanding

will guard you..."

Proverbs 2:6-11

To just wait for His wisdom to come and illuminate and guide in His timing. I'm sure at first I'll be blinded by it like I was by the cell phone in Romania. "WHAT THE MESS KIND OF PLAN IS THAT?" I'm sure I'll yell in flabergastation when "The Plan" is finally revealed. "THAT'S what You've been preparing me for?!?! Well for goodness' sakes, why didn't You just SAY that in the first place?" And then the realization will hit me, as my eyes adjust to the new illumination, that if He had shown me that earlier, I would have been completely blinded, not just dazzled.

So anyway I've just been mulling over these things pretty much all semester. So I thought I'd get it out of my system and send it into cyberspace. :-) I hope it encourages you; but it is late, and I've been praparing for midterms and class presentations and a spur-of-the-moment-mission-of-mercy-trip some AMAZING buddies from school have thrown together to help my family in rebuilding their house (which is STILL undergoing reconstruction and refurbishing from the house fire that happened almost a YEAR ago... how time flies and at the same time limps by... it seems like yesterday and also another lifetime ago...)

All that to say, I'm exhausted, and I fear it may show in my writing. :-)

In Christ,

~Princess Ouch~

Poetical moment

So far for my Great Books class, we've read The Odessy, Augustine's "Confessions" and Boethius' "The Consolation of Philosophy". One of our assignments was to write out an experience or memory in a poetical style that was similar to that found in the Odessy. I wrote out an experience from this summer and have been meaning to post it here. Hope you enjoy. :-)

As an unbroken colt bucks and bounces
vainly attempting to rid itself of its' master
who gentles it into submission,
so did the old Dacia car buck and bounce
as we crawled up the dusty Carpathian roads.
Sweet grass danced across the hills
and jagged mountainous ridges
as gentle Ewes grazed with their lambs
their bear-like shepherd dogs
faithfully watching.
These sights I drank in with pleasure
as my dear companions escorted me
further away from the world familiar
and into the hidden, sunlit valleys.
As the seagull, wild and free, cries out as he flies
so too did the voices of the village greet us
before its' sights and smells.
Olive-skinned children, turned black by sun and wind,
ran to greet us as they laughed their salutations.
My own voice joined them, my tongue clumsy
as I made the unfamiliar words of their world
shape themselves and fly from my lips.
I let my strange white hands
be touched and stroked, as laughing
the children tried to explain my sky blue eyes.
Their flashing raven hair bobbed
as they danced for me.
Husky voices raised in jeers and compliments.
I smiled and thanked my God,
as once again He had brought me here.
And I was proven faithful in my promise
to return to these my Gypsy friends.

Poured out, waiting to be filled.

(Corina and Allen)

My friend Corina lost one of her babies this week. Little "Allen" was diagnosed with Cancer in his eyes, and was abandoned by his foster mother. Corina took his case and ended up falling in love with the little boy, and became his new foster mommy. "Allen" had two surgeries - one to remove his cancerous eyes and the second to remove the cancer that had moved to his brain - and appeared to be doing well for a while. Tragically, two weeks ago he fell ill again. He slipped into a coma and a few days ago went to be with Jesus.

Corina and I chatted a few times while "Allen" was in a coma. My heart broke for Corina as she told me of her grief.

"I want to hear my baby's voice one last time!"

"My heart has been broken before, but this time it is crushed."

Before he went into a coma, Corina began to prepare "Allen" for eternity. He had been growing sicker and was agitated. At only two years old, he seemed to understand that Death was near.

"You don't need to be afraid. Jesus will come and take you to a beautiful place, and it will be your home."

The little boy was still unsure and asked, "Will Jesus come by car?" He had a facination with cars.

"Jesus has many cars. I'm sure He can find you one." She replied as he snuggled closer to her, still afraid and tense.

"You don't need to be afraid." She assured him again. "Jesus will take you home to Heaven. You can stay there with Jesus and wait for me, and after a little while Mommy will come too."

Finally the little boy relaxed and was at peace. Soon after he slipped into a coma.

After he lost consciousness, Corina and I chatted a few times while she was at her house during the few rests she allowed herself. She refused to leave "Allen's" side more than was absolutally neccessary, alternatively hoping for a miraculous healing or simply wanting to be there when he finally passed. My heart broke for Corina as she shared her grief and worry.

"I am very depressed. I miss my baby so much! I want him back with me!"

"All I want is just him, just one more time to hear him, to hold him. I can't stand to look at his lifeless body. Why so short? Why such pain he had to go through? Why so few sweet moments?"

"I know it (knowing Allen) was a privelege, but one that cost much. My heart. It was broken before, too. But this time it is totally crushed."

I tried to comfort her and remind her of God's unending love and sovereignty. I was torn, though, because I wanted to assure her that it would be allright in the end, the story would have a happy ending. Or at least to be assured, she had done enough for one person, surely God wouldn't ask her to do anything like this ever again.

However, what else is the Christian Missionary life but an endless series of sacrifice, heartbreak, and tragedy? Of course there is Joy, Love, Salvation in there as well. However the moments of grief come all too often. And the thing is that I know Jesus is standing right there watching, His eyes wet with tears as His heart breaks more than ours could ever even begin to.

But sometimes it is encouraging just to know that there are indeed other Christians who partake in the sacrifice and heartbreak. Who understand not the situation completely, but at least can empathise in the feeling of helplessness. Who do not condicend or talk with useless words but who will simply sit and cry with the grieving person. Or a simple, "tell me more, because I love you."

Anyway I had all this buzzing through my head for a while, so I wrote a poem about the Missionary life. It was originally for Corina, but I think every serious, down to earth Christian can empathize with this.

(Allen after one of his surgeries)

I Pour myself out, Oh Lord

I pour myself out.

Empty I come before You

Asking to be filled.

This fragile pitcher contains

nothing of worth

That can aid the calling

You have laid on it.

I pour myself out, though

You know how it pains.

Seeking a path only few

even know to look for.

Do not forget, Oh Lord

the cost of obediance.

Remeber, now I am empty,

waiting to be filled.

I have ruined myself for anything,

only You now can bring satisfaction.

Gently, Lord gently, refine me.

Don't let me break.

I asked for Your eyes Lord

and I begin to see.

I asked for Your heart Lord

You didn't tell me how It breaks.

Helplessly I see before me

a Heavenly task

But I have only human strength

don't let me lean on it!

I will not be accused of being so

Heavenly minded, no earthly good.

But nor will I put my hope

in this shallow world.

I follow You as a blind woman

in a foreign land.

I know the Spiritual real is there

unseen, yet unmistakably real.

I know Your voice calls to me constantly

but I still learn Your language.

I trip and stumble with mistakes

cursing fallibility,

but You keep me from falling.

You hold my hand.

Guide me, oh Lord. Use me as You wish.

I am Yours.

I pour myself out, and You fill me.

Fill till I overflow!

Let others see me as a fountain

whose souce is You!

I pour while You fill.

Let others do as well!

Copyright 2009 by Rachel Nehring.

(Corina and Allen)

Traveler

My friend Corina who is a Social Worker in Romania wrote this and put it on her blog.I thought it was very beautiful, and so am sharing. It kind of sums up this summer for me. :-) What with traveling all over, learning new things and being exposed to so many different paradigms, saying 'see ya later' to friends due to different locations - wordly and other-worldly :-)

You can visit Corina's blog at: http://corinacaba.wordpress.com She has both a Romanian page and an English page.

~Princess Ouch~

Traveler

by Corina Caba

lift up your eyes to heaven

remember you are HUMAN:

your source is not earthling

and your name is not on earth.

your origin does not belong

to this perennial earth

the name you carry here is one destined

to be forgotten,

an eternal name awaits for you,

a name destined to never be forgotten

yes, your origin is from another world,

from God Himself your soul is sprang.

I live on earth, but I am a stranger here,

my longings can not be satisfied herein,

my home is from a world above,

my destination is not on this earth…

Until we meet again

(Me, Ramona, and Haruna at McDonalds in 2006)

The thing about being young is that you think you are going to live forever. Not only do you think you are going to live forever, but you think all your friends are going to live forever. The plan is that we will all become what we dream of or even better, we will find Prince Charming or Lady Fair and get married and have the perfect number of gorgeous, brilliant kids who will always be obediant and we will be far better parents than everyone else we see. The job we plan on will of course yeild an excellent income, the ministry we are preparing on will of course yeild good fruit and seminaries will be writing about us in 50 years or more. We will have perfect health and happiness always.

And then reality hits.

A friend of mine died this last week. We weren't the best of friends, and we had fallen out of touch for about a year. He was Nigerian, and was in Nigeria when he keeled over suddenly and after being in a coma for a few hours was pronounced dead.
Its wierd, because I had just assumed that he was going to be around for the next 50 years. Of course we would somehow see each other again someday. He was going to be a cardiologist and led Bible Studies at the International Church where we met, as well as lead worship from time to time and also give the sermon when the Pastor asked him to. He always had great insights and every interaction I ever had with him I walked away blessed.

(Haruna and Christian talking after church)

Ramona and I would often hang out with a group from the international church after Bible study or church and would go to the mall for ice cream and walk around the city. Ramona - who is Romanian and had a New York-ish accent at that time- could imitate Haruna's deep Nigerian accent almost perfectly; albiet a few pitches higher than Haruna actually spoke. Haruna would, after much coaxing from me, try to imitate Ramona, and would do TERRIBLE at it, leaving all of us in the group doubled over in peals of laughter.

I've been thinking how awesome Heaven is going to be, with all the reunions we're going to have. I am pretty sure Haruna will be up somewhere in the Heavenly Chorus, his deep gorgeous Nigerian voice belting out Hallelujah's to the Father.

Thank You, Father, for faithful servants like Haruna. Raise up many to pick up the torch that he put down when You took him home. Help me to bless others as much as he blessed me. Amen.

~Princess Ouch~

(Faith, DiAnne, Chevelle, and Haruna planning the weeks Praise and Worship scheduale)

Back Home

(Neighbors watching the river rise and the road dissapear)

So I successfully made it back home :-) There were a few points when I was switching planes when I was pretty sure I'd be stranded. Little things like the airlines forgetting to display which gate my flight was, or not giving me a boarding pass in Budapest which complicated things in Amsterdam, or new customs and checkpoints that weren't there last year. Yippee! But Praise God I made it fine, and am safely back home.

So I promised I'd put up pictures of the flood, so will do that now :-) Funny thing is the computer I used in Romania was faster at loading pictures than the one I use in the States. Now does anyone else see anything wrong with that??? lol

Anyway, it started as we were getting ready to go to Church in Sacuieu, and for the next hour or two we watched the water rise at an alarmingly fast rate. At one point the river was flowing about two feet away from the house. I really wished we had some sandbags, but we had something better: prayer! :-) The interesting thing was that the water made a circle around the garden and the house, making two little islands. Further down the road, a house that was higher than ours had the garden completely washed out and water in the basement. And the neighbors had their garden washed out as well. So after the flood Silvana and I went inside and each took a nap. I had been stressed and was going to have a full night traveling by bus over the mountains and across the Panonian plain to Budapest for my flight that left at 7 am in the morning. After waking up we sang Praise and Worship songs to Nicu's playing the guitar, and then Silvana and Nicu showed me some goofy songs from Christian bands who took secular songs and put Christian lyrics to them. It was fun!

(Silvana surveys the rising flood)

(Leo watches the road dissapear to the waters)


Naomi and I decided to snitch some cherries while we were outside. We kept 'accidently' pulling branches down which let loose a shower of water that had caught on the leaves when it rained)

(The house and the rising flood. Woot)


Silvana told Tanti Marioala that I was sad because we couldn't go to Sacuieau. I was going to buy a Gypsy outfit from Dita while we were there. Tanti Marioala asked if I wanted to see what was in her attic and we found this costume which I bought from her. :-) Pretty Gypsy. Apparently her daughter in law wore it for a high school play or something.

My family and me back home!!

(Sorry that this ends rather abruptly, I figured if I was going to get this posted I should while I had the computer, and its late at night. If I waited until I could give the story a nice ending, you might be waiting for a while. Since this has sat in my drafts box for over a week, I figured it was time to just finish putting up pictures and post it as-is. Sorry again!)

The rains came down and the floods came up...

Last day in Romania. We were going to go to Sacuieu for church, but just as we were getting ready a neighbor ran over and yelled on the porch,

"Nicu quick! Move your car, the river is starting to flood!"

It has been raining for the last few days, and had been raining hard on and off all day. My first experience with a flash-flood, and the adrenaline spike left Silvana and I in desperate need of an hour long nap after it was all done.

Feri and Danot(s) came over afterwards to see how we were doing and tell Nicu how Church was without him.

The amazing thing was the Priest from the Orthodox church came to see how some of our neighbors were doing, and they all came over to see how we were doing, so the Priest came with them and drank coffee with us. Silvana was amazed because they've been here for three years and have invited the Priest over many times to have coffee or just to get to know him and he's always refused. The Reformation is still in many ways being fought, just not violently. The Priest didn't want to associate with 'the heretics' but the flood waters brought him in. :-D

Anywayz, I will post pictures when I get home, but am going to enjoy the next few hours with the Hagiu's before we leave at 11 pm to meet my bus in Huedin. It will arrive in Budapest around 4:30, providing we don't meet any flooded-out roads on our way. :-) My plane leaves Budapest for Amsterdam at 7 am, and will get there about 9:30. Then from Amsterdam I leave for Minneanapolis at 11:30, and after eight hours in the air arrive in Minneanapolsis. After ANOTHER two hour layover will fly to Omaha, where Mom and company will pick me up, and then the two hour drive north to the farm.

Yeah... me and Jetlag will be BUDS by the end of it!!!

So please pray for safe travels and clear minded thinking on my part :-)

In Christ,

Princess Ouch.

Face paints, mud, and cool scenery

The other day I took some Face Paints I bought in the States to Calatele. The kids LOVED IT. Since it was rainy I was wearing a hat, so the pictures of me actually painting the kids' faces didn't come out exactly how I had hoped, but that's okay.I had painted different things - like a flower, heart, apple, lion, rainbow - on a piece of paper so the kids could point to what they wanted me to paint. One girl held the piece of paper, another girl held the mirror I brought, and another girl would grab the kids who wanted their faces painted and hold their arms behind them (sort of in a position that I would imagine communist interrogators imposing onto prisoners) and scolded them when they wiggled while I painted their cheeks. Maaaaan.... I was suprised first by how well the kids held still for me while I painted. You see these hyperactive kids zipping around here, there, and everywhere, and you think it's nigh on impossible for them to hold still for longer than a second. But when they decide they want something, or they want to learn something, or it's in their best interest, they cooperate like no one else.As I painted, the kids let loose "Ooooh's" and "aaah's" and "yaiii, how beautiful!" as I painted flowers and hearts and lions and apples and tree's on kids' cheeks. At first I was nervous, because at first I only had about 10 girls who had come for Nicu's Bible Study. But when I pulled out the paints, one or two kids left and found their friends, and before I knew it I was surrounded by a large crowd of rambunctious Gypsy kids."Okay, who is the smallest here?" I asked. A little girl about two years old was shoved forward.

"This is how we're gonna do it: The smallest goes first, and we go from smallest to biggest, okay?'' I said. They all nodded and things went pretty well. Although there was one or two boys who did NOT understand why I didn't paint Feri's son's face first, but the Gypsy girls explained for me in Gypsy what the plan was.

There were a few points where all the kids were shouting and squealing with glee and a few minor disputes at the edge of the crowd, and I got quite an earful of the Roma language. I loved it but couldn't understand a thing, let alone hear myself think!!

One of the older girls who was about 13 watched me from behind for a few minutes and then quietly took a paintbrush and started painting kid's faces with me. THAT was awesome. Silvana said this girl would listen to her children's stories and pay attention to the programs, and then when Nicu and Silvana left she would gather the kids the next day and retell the stories for the kids. Its so cool to see how God is working amongst these Gypsies.

I hope this girl can continue to learn how to share and teach children, but the problem is she is 13 and will probably be married in the next two years. If that's the case, it will be a lot harder for her to continue learning and teaching as she takes over the care of her household.

So it was fun. Yesterday we weren't able to go to Sacuieu for the Bible study as Nicu had to get ready to go to his parent's house. They live way up in the mountains and need help butchering or building or something very farm-ish, and then once he was ready to go the river flooded from all the rain we have been getting (and it's supposed to rain for the next two days. Woot woot!) So Feri called and said that he was going to lead the prayer meeting. Afterwards he came with Danot(s) and another Gypsy man who has been coming to study and both Danot(s) and Feri brought their sons with them. Feri retold how the meeting went and all the guys were really excited about how well it went.

I tried to listen for a while but decided to grab the face paints and 'be productive' while I listened. The two little boys LOVED the opportunity to get painted once again, and insisted that they have BOTH their cheeks painted AND their hands. We only had time for one hand and one cheek, but it was fun.

Today I went for a loooong walk outside of Sancriau, and got some awesome pictures. At one point I actually started singing Roger's and Hammersteins "The Hills are Alive" as I snapped pictures of the GORGEOUS countryside. Here's some of my masterpieces. Hope you enjoy.

~PrincessOuch~

Sancraiu and Sacuieu

Well, it's my last week in Romania before heading home. Its a little wierd, 'cause it feels both like I've been here forever and also like I just got here.

Thought I would put some pictures of Sancraiu (which apparently I have been misspelling my entire time here ;-D) and a few pictures from last night. We had an awesome praise and worship time in Sacuieu with the Gypsies. They didn't 'sing', per se, they actually yelled on-key. The trouble was that i was trying to match their volume and help keep the girls near me on-beat, and so at the end was hoarse. :-D But it was fun.

I love how there are area's that just open up for awesome views of the valley and village.

Transylvanian Farmhouse.

(on the way to Sacuieu. It was rainy, and we were IN the clouds a lot)

Before Church I went to Lemoia's home where her mom, husband, and sister were all visiting. At first they were quiet, watching me, so I played 'peekaboo' with Isabella, Lemoia's daughter. That sort of 'broke the ice' and they all started asking me about my trip here: how many hours on the plane, how many hours was the trip total, how much it cost, how many kids, if I was married, if I was married before, if I knew any Gypsies in the States and how often I saw Gypsy beggars in the States. There were a few points where Lemoia had to translate my broken Romanian

intoGypsy, but it was fun.

(another view on the way to Sacuieu. Gorgeous at all times of year, but I shudder

when I think of this in the wintertime!!!)

After about a half hour of chatting, Marioala - another Gypsy woman I knew from last year - poked her head in and announced that I was to go to the Church NOW, because Silvana was asking for me. It seemed to me to be one of those situations like when my younger sister says to my younger brother, "MOM SAID you have to _____". But the nice thing was that both Lemoia and Marioala came to church, as Lemoia has only come once while I've been here, and Marioala hasn't come at all.

(a flock of sheep/goats in Sacuieu)

Silvana and I had a nice talk when I got back about previous American teams who have come before and what they did, and how we would want it to look if I brought a team here. I've wanted to put together a mission trip for youth since I stopped working at the Orphanage three years ago, but haven't really had the resources or expertise etc. to do it. But I THINK things may be coming together where that has changed. So anyway, Silvana and I talked about stuff we would have to go over with the youth before they came, and while they were here, and what we would do. She was able to share some of her and Nicu's vision for Calatele and Sacuieu.

(Dana and Zorka, two girls I played with a lot last year)

Its really cool how God has moved in the Gypsies lives and in the Hagiu's lives. Silvana also shared some more about what she and Nicu has learned about Gypsy culture and law etc. A lot of it sounds like stuff I've read about from cultures in like Tribal South America or the Middle East. Which is wierd 'cause we're in EUROPE, which is a completely, totally different culture. From one perspective, it's NO WONDER the Gypsies and Europeans have been butting heads since the Gypsies arrived from India/Pakistan a thousand years ago.

(Danot(s) in the background and left to right is is wife and

two daughters in the foreground)

One thing that has really made me think is how the Gypsies approach certain aspects of life. For example, a lot of them have teeny tiny houses that are often the size of my bedroom. A large house is the size of two small bedrooms. The families usually have from 5 to 10 kids in them. Now granted, they marry off the girls when they are 12 to 15 and the guys are usually out working or... something... so the percentage of that size family that lives consistantly in the house. But the houses are still teeny. However, they spend hundreds (or thousands) of dollars/Euro's on their clothes or electronics and take excellent care of their gorgeous yet expensive horses. It's just very interesting to see where their priorities lie.

(a girl looking at my Bible at Church. I LOVE her hair!!!)

Anywayz. Its always interesting to see what kind of paradigm shifts or observations I'm going to experiance when I come to this part of the world. I am SOOO interested to see how God is going to use all of this in the future. :-) Tomorrow is market day again, so that will be interesting! Am hoping to get some stuff like a noodle maker and some stuff for my family. Last time I was there I found an old Hungarian guy who was selling antique clothing he bought from around the countryside. It was fuuuun. I might buy a blouse or something from him... the thing is those clothes are HEAVY. It's like, canvas from a ship's sail or something with embroidery on it!!

Okay well that is all for now. Hope you enjoyed the pictures and my observations. Please pray that this last week goes really well, and that uses me and the Hagiu's mightely to accomplish His work.

Thanks for all your prayers, support and encouragements so far!! In Christ,

~Princess Ouch~

(you see, Mom? I AM TALL!!!!)