Moldova

January 15–January 25, 2005

My journal contains those entries that you would expect. The day we had packages for every child. The day we were 40 bags short. And the day we were shown the two pigs that made that particular orphanage rich (as spoken by the director). We saw the looks of happy faces. And the looks of sad faces. We saw the waiting and wanting look on an 8-year-old face. Waiting to see if she had a package at all and wanting it to be as large as the package received by the girl in front of her. It’s a face that looks both younger and older than it should at the same time. A face that’s seen too little of life; and at the same time seen more than any child should.

Someone asked me upon my return, "Well, did you change the world?" Another asked, "Did what you do really matter for eternity’s sake?" And my answer to both questions would be yes. Not because I saw the answer with my eyes, but because my faith tells me that we were the feet and hands and heart of Jesus. And He tells me that one good thing done in his name is not wasted.

We passed out very large bags loaded with clothes and school supplies and hygiene items and toys. We passed out small bags with a few items. We brought food—meat and fruit—that is rarely seen in the orphanages. We passed out Bibles to all the children in Popeaska. We saw smiles. We heard lots of singing. We saw a play about King Solomon. Remember—these are state run orphanages and religious teaching is not allowed. So, yes, we’ve made a difference. Some of the children have been in the orphanages ever since we’ve been making this trip.

I could tell you of our dreams, but know that I’m not skilled enough with my words to convey even a hint of what our hearts felt. We dreamed of moving to Moldova. We dreamed of buying or making bunk beds for all the orphanages so they could house more children. The director at Popeaska told us that she knows of 3 children that need to come to the orphanage, but she didn’t have any space for them. We looked at the dormitories and came up with a plan to install toilets. We wondered about the sewage and even came up with a fair plan for that. That’s right, there’s no sewage system. We thought about the lead paint on the walls. We thought about their poor nutrition. We thought about their wet beds every morning as most of the children are bedwetters. We thought about how to teach them to grow their own vegetables, how to learn a trade, how to sew. So at the age of 16 when the orphanage turns them out they will have a path to follow. And the truth is, our thinking is so influenced by our own culture. Even with a trade—the possibility of a job is very slim. Free enterprise is rare. The Mafia has a foothold in everything. And the government currently has a communist leader.

I would like to believe that religion and politics/governments can be independent of one another, but the truth is that they have everything to do with each other. Moldova is an example of a country void of spiritual influence for centuries. Oh, not to say that God is not in Moldova, of course he is! And his people are there! But the evidence of the lack of free speech, freedom to worship, and the many freedoms we take for granted is paramount. Moldova is changing. Now is the time to be there. We ran into American military troops in the city. We saw several Americans. Much has changed in two years. Not to say that Americans are the answer, but to show that things are changing in Moldova. Their people are hungry for not only food, but truth—the bread of life.

My prayer is that White’s Ferry Road will continue it’s mission in Moldova and that we will be prayerful about our future endeavors. Let us not be limited in our thinking. Let us continue to hope and dream and pray that the doors in Moldova will stay open and that His people will walk through!