A Family's Journey

Fifteen years ago this month God brought me to Romania through some rather strange circumstances. Little did I know at that time that my life would be changed forever. Like most, I had never heard of Romania, let alone know where it was located. I had no idea what to expect. What I discovered was a humble, loving, accepting, and welcoming group of people. I discovered my second home.
Life often stands in the way of our journey. My life is no different. The last 15 years have come and gone with many journeys to Romania. Romania is now a piece of my DNA, a fabric of who I am. My Facebook timeline is flooded with Romanians from years past. The walls of our house are covered with the memories of Romania. The pages of our journals are filled with life altering stories and experiences.
This March marked another significant milestone in our journey. It was the first time Kacee and I returned to Romania together after living in Romania some seven years back. It was also the first time we brought our children to Romania. Much to the chagrin of friends and family we set out on a journey with our four-year old son and six-year old daughter. Some felt we were crazy for taking them half way around the world. Many feared it was the wrong decision. I will admit there were times leading up to our trip that I questioned if the timing was appropriate. It might have been a bit early, but when is the right time? Why wait until the world says they are “old enough” to go on their first mission trip? Why make them wait to experience what has had such a lasting impact on our lives? How else can our children pray for the nations if they have never seen the nations? How can we read Acts 1:8 to them without modeling Acts 1:8? We want our kids to know Romania is not a map on the wall; it is a place, a place that has changed our lives. A place we love. A place they will love. A place they do love!
So we set out on our ten-day journey to Eastern Europe. The kids were marvelous. They absorbed each and every moment. We began with a few days in Budapest to get our sea legs under us. What a joy it was to see their faces as they observed such a historic place. After a brief break at the park and some time to play with a few Hungarian children we knew we had made the right decision. It didn’t take our kids long to realize kids are kids, regardless of what language they speak. They like to play at the park, watch cartoons (even if they are in a different language), and order Happy Meals at McDonalds!
Romania was where reality set in for all of us. It did not take our kids long to realize that life in a Romanian village was obviously nothing like life in a Budapest hotel! The first home we visited was the home of a 93 year-old lady that had found refuge in Romania years ago. Upon arrival no one would accept her but a Roma family. Several years later she was living with a group that took up Witch Craft. Still to this day she finds herself labeled a witch. Now she lives alone in a one-room house with half the roof missing.
Next we visited a family of 11. I was further convinced bringing the children was the right decision the second Nicoleta came running and embraced Brynlee. Kacee and I had ministered to Nicoleta and her family for the past eight years. What a joy it was to see Nicoleta returning the love we had so often given her. The children we came to love so long ago had slowly grown up, and now they were welcoming our children with open arms.
I can go on and on about the homes we visited. One home had 17 children. Another home had a single father caring for his small children because his wife abandoned them. Then there was the home with the livestock living in the house with the kids forced to care for themselves because their parents were “out” again. We met families that offered us their only meal for the day in an effort to be good guests. One after another they all welcomed us in their homes and thanked us for our gifts.
But the most precious sight was watching my daughter tie the new shoes of a little girl that had never seen new shoes. And it broke my heart watching my son bow his head in prayer while sitting on the porch of a Romanian home. These are the memories that will last. Only God knows if our children will remember this trip years from now. Like their parents, I’m certain they will live their lives in-between trips to Romania. The memories will gather on the shelf along with awards from school and activities. One thing however is certain; Romania is now a fabric of their DNA.



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