Finding Jesus in the Least of These

Stepping off the bus in Shutka I am greeted by a woman selling flowers and candles. She shoves them in front of me, hoping I will buy some. As I continue down the street I am met by familiar sights. The horse standing at it's post on the right side of the road. A coop full of chickens on one side, house on the other, garbage everywhere. I see a mother of one of the children in the preschool and we smile at each other. Ahead of me in the middle of the road is a group of people dancing. With typical gypsy music playing in the background the women are standing in the middle of the street dancing, swinging their hips. One of them is holding a hose that was apparently just used to spray off the now soaked section of the road on which they are dancing. Children stand on the sidelines grinning and shouting, watching the festivities. Maybe a baby was just born? I feel very conspicuous having to walk almost through the middle of the dancing to pass. Then I look over at the children and see a boy I know. A huge smile spreads across his face, and I smile back as I pass.

I round the corner past the house with the geese in the yard, and the horse and wagon always sitting at the corner with it's owner, waiting for something. A little further on some of the children sitting on their front porch see me walking past. They start yelling, "Betsa, Betsa (the name I have been given by the children in Shutka)!!" They come running out to meet me, hugging me with great enthusiasm, asking me what I am doing, so happy to see me. My heart is warmed that they know me, I feel a sense of beginning to belong.

At the church I help with preparations for lunch, making sandwiches, pouring drinks, setting up tables. Finally the crowd of children waiting outside the gate is let in. As soon as I go outside with them I am surrounded by children hanging on me, wanting to play games, or just be held close.
Oftentimes they are dirty, they smell bad, they are often rowdy, but this is one of my favorite places to be on earth. I love being where Jesus is, and I find His presence is so thick among the forgotten, the ones who are cast aside and looked down on. Jesus said that what we do unto the least of these is done unto him, and when I am with them I feel His presence, something I would not trade for anything.


A little friend of mine came one day covered in scrapes and cuts on his face and arms. He is about two years old, the second youngest of nine children. He was filthy, and it was evident that
no one had bothered to clean these cuts, which were rather serious. His sister informed us that the dog had attacked him. I took him in the kitchen, cleaned him off and put ointment on the cuts. As I was washing him off I looked down in his face. His little eyes looked up at mine, he wore a captivating smile, full of poignant emotion. I read in his face what his words could not tell me, a deep thirst for love and tender care, awe at experiencing a gentle touch. His face was full of desire for love, expressing a hope that this moment would never end, he looked as though he thought he was experiencing a bit of heaven.

It is because of moments like these that I can continue. Because of the realization that my touch and my example, along with the others at the church, may be the only picture these children will see of Jesus. And when His love lives inside of me, I cannot help but pour it out on the children who are so close to His heart, no matter how much garbage, dirt and noise is in the way.

Riots, Garbage, Language, Sheep - A Glimpse of Life in Macedonia

Shortly after we returned to Macedonia from America there was a riot in Shutka. There was a street full of businesses that were being run illegally, not paying tax. The police and inspectors came in to shut them down, and a riot ensued. The people were throwing rocks and in the process seventeen policemen were injured. The following day we went to the church to help in the soup kitchen. It was strange seeing the once busy street with shops full of people shut down, and so quiet. As we neared the church there was a group of children standing in front of the gate. When they saw us coming, they began throwing rocks at us, apparently copying the example of their parents from the day before. This has happened three times, though thankfully we have not been injured, and I believe the worst of it is over. The thing that saddens me is that the children are just copying what they see. They so desperately need an example of something different. I pray that what they see and hear at the church will make a difference in their lives and will give them something to copy that will be of benefit to them.

Today as we walked toward the church we were overtaken by a group of children heading in the same direction. They insisted on taking us by a shortcut which turned out to be through a field of garbage, full of broken glass and ceramic, overgrown weeds, old shoes, and who knows what else. Two of them took Jenn a different way, which ended up being slower, so the girls with me were chanting, "Ние побрзо!" (we're faster!). For a couple of months now the church has had a second kitchen open in a poorer section of town. Friday was it's closing day, and so beginning with this week, we had a huge increase in numbers at the main kitchen. There are normally anywhere from 40 to 70. Monday there were over 100 and today over 90. We switched from the winter menu of soup to the summer menu of sandwiches and bananas. Today one child decided it would be fun to throw his banana peel across the room. Well, then others thought that was a fabulous idea, and peels started flying. Fortunately a few strict warnings and maybe a few kids getting escorted out nipped it in the bud. I was having visions of an all out banana peel fight with 90 children throwing banana peels around the room.

The resident dog, Spike, recently disappeared from inside the church compound. Shortly thereafter another dog appeared, apparently having been dumped over the fence by a passerby. The poor thing was not in good shape, and would lie listlessly in the corner, or under the desk that is randomly sitting in the yard. He finally gave up the fight and died last week.

There was a team visiting a couple weeks ago, and their presence brought a revelation about my language skills development that I'm glad for on one hand, and nervous about on the other. They all spoke English, and the local kitchen helpers that day only spoke Macedonian. The people who usually translate were not present, and one of the ladies was more confident of my language skills than I was, and she informed everyone that I knew Macedonian. So, I was pressed into service as translator, and was surprised at how much I knew. That was a huge step for me in language learning, but now I can't as effectively hide and not use it, which is somewhat uncomfortable, but good for me as well.

Walking home today I came across a man and two children with a middle sized lamb that had a rope tied around it's middle. The stout little shirtless boy was doing his best to push the lamb out of the luscious, green grass to wherever they wanted it to go, but it stubbornly refused. The man proceeded to grab it's wool and lift it to the path, but just as soon as he put it down, it found the grass again. I had to laugh, the boy reminded me so much of my brother and our days on the farm, only this was in the middle of the city, surrounded by apartment buildings. It's truly a different world here, but one I love very much.

Christmas in Shutka

January 6th, Christmas day here in Macedonia, found us headed to Shutka to help with their Christmas celebration. I have never experienced a Christmas celebration quite like this one.

We arrived at the church to a buzz of activity. A huge pot of hot chocolate was being prepared for the children amidst a hot debate over whether it had enough chocolate in it or not. The musicians were practicing. Questions were plenty, "Do you remember where the Christmas costumes are?", "Where is the list of children who are going to act in the pageant?", "How many cookies will each child get?". We were set to work practicing a simple puppet show and one puppet provided us with great amusement when its pants utterly refused to stay up. Piles of cookies were arranged on plates, and a system created for serving the children. We were well on our way to a Shutka Christmas celebration.

Gradually as time progressed the mob began to develop outside the door, a loud, active mass of children, pressing as close as they could get, eager to enjoy the festivities and find out whether today would be the long awaited day that the "packets" would be distributed. Through the door I could see them pressed so tightly together I thought they would crush the littlest ones in the middle whose dismayed faces made me want to pluck them out of the crowd. Finally the time came for them to be allowed in, and so gradually the seats were filled, and the room became something like mildly ordered chaos, with well over a hundred children brimming with excitement.

The program began and we presented the puppet show and some music. Then there was a flurry to dress the actors in their costumes as quickly as possible. The Christmas story was read, and the little actors were pushed forward at the proper time to represent the character they had been chosen for. Some had very shy expressions, but were excited to have been chosen to participate. They moved to their places, and dutifully stood in their positions, obviously pleased to be up at the front. The angels made everyone laugh by flapping their "wings" as they "flew" down the aisle. All this was punctuated with constant commands from the sidelines for the observing children to sit down and be quiet, in hopes of maintaining at least a small sense of order. The program closed with a song and dance, which caused great merriment among the children.


Next came the long awaited distribution of the Operation Christmas Child boxes. I have helped package these in America, and now here I was on the other side helping to distribute them. It's a little different than one might expect. The desire for a "packet" is great, and the number is limited, so it was a battle to maintain order during distribution. A guard was even posted at the door to prevent people from re-entering after they received one. It was a tense, chaotic atmosphere. Once the room cleared a little bit and there was some peace I did get to help a few little girls open their boxes. The expressions on their face were priceless as they pulled out dolls and clothes and other fun things.

The moments that I connect with individual children during times like these feel the most significant to me. One poor little child was having a rough day. She was crying and seemed tired and distraught. They kept shoving her into a little nook under the counter with a cookie and ordering her to be quiet. Finally I picked her up and held her a while. It's moments like these I love, to sow love and care into the lives of these little children.

After doing some clean up we cleared out and headed home. I left with a different perspective of so many things than I had arrived with that morning. The thought of the rough households so many of these children come from can be heartbreaking at times, and it is touching to see how they respond to the efforts made to reach out to them. Just a smile and a kind touch can light up their faces. I pray that through it all they will recognize the love of Jesus and choose to turn to Him.

Shutka

About an hour long journey by bus and foot from our apartment is an area of Skopje known as Shutka. It is home to the largest settlement of gypsies in the world. It is full of great poverty, spiritual darkness, dirt and garbage. It is not an attractive place from a physical perspective, but I know that the heart of God yearns over it. And God has imparted to our hearts some of the same perspective that makes Him love this place so. I believe that in going to the least of these, I get closer to Jesus than anywhere else. So, Tuesday and Friday mornings find us making the trek to the church in Shutka.



The church we attend has a church plant in Shutka. Part of their ministry is a soup kitchen for children that operates five days a week, feeding usually 50-70 children, with the capability of feeding up to 100. We try to arrive at around 11:00 to help Toni (the Macedonian pastor) and Chris (a missionary from California) who are usually preparing the soup, and supervising the gypsy children who have come to help with set up. We help with preparing bread and apples, and with set up. While we are waiting on the food to be ready we often get a chance to play with the children, a highlight of the day.



I love these children. Behind their dirty faces and sometimes rough behavior I see Jesus. I see character being shaped, destinies forming, and little hearts open to receive seeds that will grow and produce fruit of eternal worth. I love to hold them and let them teach me their games. I also take the opportunity to learn some of the language. They sometimes take advantage of this by telling me to say something and then laughing uproariously when I do. At least I can make them laugh.
:-)



When the soup is ready, the crowd of children waiting at the door are let in, and then ensues a time of loud singing followed by a prayer. We begin serving the soup, bread, juice and apples. Their faces are priceless, the little girls who smile shyly up at us, the boys with faces full of mischief, waiting to pull a prank on the new foreigners (we're catching on though). They eat eagerly, and around the room arms start to wave and requests are shouted, сакам леб (I want bread), сакам супа (I want soup), сакам сол (I want salt). In short order they have finished and begin filing out, leaving tables covered with a mess of soup, mushy napkins, half eaten apples and pieces of bread.



Some of the children stay to help clean up, and they are excellent workers. We wash dishes while they wipe tables and put them away, sweep and mop the floor. Fifty plus bowls, spoons and cups later, we dump the dirty dish water, and wrap things up. Leaving the church compound we pass Dusty the climbing cat and Spike the dog who deals with leftovers. We have been coming long enough that as we make the ten minute walk back to the bus stop, children often see us and call out hello, or follow us back, laughing and chatting. It is a good feeling to recognize faces, and be recognized. I often fall asleep on the bus on the way home. Shutka is an exhausting environment.



If you think of it, pray for us on Tuesdays and Fridays. We need wisdom to be able to interact with the children in a loving way, but at the same time enforce discipline to prevent being completely run over. Pray for open doors to sow into their hearts. And pray for our protection as we work in this place full of spiritual darkness.