Father and Family

The smell of supper wafting up the stairs. The sound of my brother stomping up the steps two at a time. Long talks with my sister when she really should have been studying and I should really have been sewing, but we each decided we just needed to share some sister time. Exploring the wonder of the outdoors together. Riding double and bareback with my brother on one of the horses to go visit the neighbors. Waking up to the sound of the woodstove door creaking, knowing that my dad is starting a fire and that by the time I get downstairs the stove will be radiating cozy heat. Dad reading "The Chronicles of Narnia" to us aloud as children in the evenings. My brother going with me to milk the cow when we got home late at night and I didn't feel like braving the dark field by myself. All six of us gathered around the supper table together, sharing about our day. Summer evenings sitting on the porch enjoying the peace and serenity. Walking and praying with my mom. The smell of mulled cider heating on the wood stove when we came in from sledding in the snow. A place of safety and comfort, where I know I am always accepted whether I have failed or succeeded. This is my home, this is my family.

I think back on all these experiences, how they shaped who I am, and revealed God's love to me. And one of the most beautiful things about my family is the times we get to share the closeness with others. We have someone over for dinner, and they feel the beauty of family and love, and so many times they speak of the comfort it brings to them. The warmth of the love reaches out and envelops other people, drawing them in. And now living across the ocean from my family I understand the truth of that. And as I ponder it all, revelation explodes in my heart about my God, my Father. He wants a family, He wants His children to know and experience what it means to be in a family. The family I grew up in is just a shadow of what He is wanting to create in His church. And I am watching Him do this here, gathering His children to Himself. He is creating a family here in the Balkans. He is drawing His children to His heart, calling them home, to a place of acceptance, safety and comfort. And as we begin to be drawn together as brothers and sisters, sharing our lives together, something is created in our midst that draws those around us who have not yet recognized the voice of their father. And they are feeling it, people disillusioned with life, at the end of their ropes, who looked for peace elsewhere and did not find it. The warmth draws them, they are amazed by the peace they feel in the midst of this family of people. And my heart rejoices as I watch it, the protective arms of my Father, sending forth the spirit of adoption, drawing His children to Himself, to the family they were created to be a part of, the family that Jesus died to give them a place in. It is incomparably beautiful to watch.
"But that He might gather into one the children of God who are scattered abroad. " John 11:52
"For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out, 'Abba! Father'" Romans 8:15
Let it be Father!

Ajvar Making

Ajvar making is a traditional autumnal activity in Macedonia. It is a very work intensive process, so as a result has become an activity which the whole family participates in to make it manageable. Walking outdoors in the fall, the smell of roasting peppers pervades the air, one of the essentials for the creation of a truly Macedonian autumn. This year I got the privilege of experiencing it for the first time with my friend's family in Veles.

We started with 80 kilos of sweet red peppers, and about 25 kilos of eggplants. We washed them all then removed the middles and the seeds.














Next we roasted each pepper and eggplant on the woodstove, a very tedious, time consuming process.





After letting the roasted peppers and eggplants cool, we peeled each one by hand.













Finally, we put them all in a grinder, to grind them into a pulpy texture, then poured them in the big ajvar pan with some oil and salt. The pan stayed on the stove for several hours, during which we had to stir it almost constantly to keep it from sticking to the bottom.








So, we spent the whole day talking, drinking coffee, washing, roasting and peeling peppers together. We ended the day with a quintessential Macedonian meal of fresh ajvar, bread and sirenje (white cheese).

My Inheritance

I stand in awe watching the way God is moving. I took Him at His word when He promised me that what I ask for in faith I would receive. I began asking, talking to Him about what was happening in my life and in the lives of the people around me. I told Him about the hurt, the brokenness, the lack, the sadness that I see around me. I asked Him to bring change, to bring His kingdom to come here on earth, just like it is in heaven. I knew that He would be faithful to His promises, but I did not count on His extravagance. I found out that He was just waiting for me to ask, and when I did, He opened the floodgates of heaven, and poured out in answer more than I could ever have asked or imagined. He began moving in peoples lives, changing circumstances and bringing healing and restoration.

God doesn't answer my prayers half heartedly, He is a Kingly giver. He gives everything He possibly can, everything I could ever hope for and more. I can live a life full of joy, something that does not depend on the circumstances around me. As His daughter I have access to all the resources of heaven, a never ending supply of love, grace, healing, compassion, hope, joy and blessing. I don't just have enough, I have an abundance, so that I never have to live in lack. And from this, I can give to everyone around me without ever running out. I am loved completely, and because of this I can love others completely. I can give beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning and a garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. Where there is pain, sickness and disease, I can release healing. Where there is sorrow I can release joy. Where there is depression and despair I can be a bearer of hope, because my Father has given royally to me, and now I can give royally to others. This is my inheritance.

Reflections on a Rainy Day

I woke up this morning to a gray sky and slow, drenching rain. Off to Shutka I went, umbrella in hand. The kids were waiting outside the church door earlier than normal today, wearing their winter coats for the first time this year. The conversations and little interactions I have with the children is what makes it all so interesting. Today Bajram asked me with great drama, "Jenn moved to Greece didn't she?" I informed him this was indeed true. "It's warm in Greece!" was his response. The other children were gazing up at me, waiting eagerly for my response, as though as I held all the answers. I told them that Greece is indeed warmer, but that does not mean it is always warm. I could see the longing in their eyes for a place where they would not have to suffer from the cold.

I sat on the bench with a little girl on either side, one of them clutching me around the waist. Looking out at the rain I asked them jokingly if they thought God was crying today. One little boy quickly corrected me, "No, the Lord is crying." Bajram chimed in with great solemnity, "No, God is not crying. The way it works is that the water falls from clouds in the sky, and then when the sun comes out the water evaporates, and forms clouds again." . I praised him heartily, telling him I could see he had been going to school (something I do my best to encourage at every opportunity, since some of the children don't bother to go). This began a competition to see who could impress me with their educational accomplishments.
One boy puffed out his chest, looked over at me and announced, "I am in sixth grade!" . His declaration was followed by hoots of laughter and shouts of, "He's lying! He's in first grade with the little kids!" . I laughed, but was sad at the same time thinking of little Zunka sitting next to me in sullen silence, tears on her cheeks from when the big boys had been tormenting her with teasing. She is so little and helpless and sweet, and they tease her so badly.

Then conversation turned to our new friend from America, Sam. They were asking me about him, "Hey, what's that guys name?" "Is he from Germany?" Then one boy turns to the other, "I think he's Jesus!" (Sam has shoulder length hair, like the picture of Jesus on the church wall) "Yea, his hair is really awesome and long like Jesus'!" Sam quickly assured them he is not Jesus, but they still thought his hair was awesome.

Just as we started serving the food to the children the electricity went out. No electricity, no water. So, now there is a pile of dishes from about forty children sitting unwashed in the sink until the electricity comes back on. This is not an uncommon occurrence in Shutka.

Walking to my language class I got an unwelcome shower. The drainage system in Skopje is nearly non-existent. Every time a car goes by, huge waves of filthy water shower anyone standing within a six foot vicinity. Today I was victim. I chose to take the bus home because of the rain. To my chagrin, the bus was not much of an improvement over outdoors. There were so many holes in the roof I had to dodge the dirty drops of water. I considered the possibility of opening my umbrella, but decided that would just look too absurd. By the time I excited the bus to walk home I was so soaked I didn't care any more whether I got hit by another wave from a passing car, so I just quit paying attention. Oh well, it just makes a warm house and cup of tea that much more inviting. :-)

Prayer at the Lake

In August we set aside a weekend to go to Veles and camp near the lake with Glasnost from Skopje, and our church plant from Veles. We spent the time fellowshipping together, praying and worshiping. One afternoon we did a cookout.


Grisko hard at work at the grill as usual.




One evening we all gathered for a time of focused worship and prayer around the campfire. The Holy Spirit showed up and as we prayed and worshiped, and people shared what they were hearing God say I could feel the bonds of unity growing stronger, the darkness being pushed back.



Boshko, the young man from Gevgelija who recently got saved was baptized in the lake.



A bunch of us slept on the ground one night under the stars. The fresh air, and the clear sky were absolutely delightful.

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.

Balkan Connect Conference

Mid June found us in Ohrid, Macedonia, named one of the top 30 places to visit in the world in 2010 by the New York times. We gathered from many different countries for a three day conference connecting churches in the Balkan region. There were people from Macedonia, Bosnia, Croatia, Slovenia, Finland, Greece, Sweden, America, England, Portugal, Canada and New Zealand. We met to pray and worship together, and to build connections between the churches in the Balkans.

The balance of scheduled teaching time and fellowship time was perfect. When we worshipped, you could feel the presence of the Holy Spirit in our midst. It was beautiful to listen to testimonies, and teachings and hear how God is moving, to get the bigger picture of His plan for this region and to see the vision He has placed in each individual. The last night we had a prayer time and took turns focusing on each Balkan country and praying over the people representing the church there.
The presence of the Holy Spirit was powerful, and as we prayed in unity for healing, for doors to be opened to the gospel, and for the Spirit of God to move, it was as if I could feel things shifting in the spiritual realm. I look forward to seeing the answers to the things we prayed for.

Equally wonderful was the time we spent building relationships with new friends and old. We spent time sitting at an ancient church together, worshiping and praying at night on a large boulder overlooking the lake.
We found respite from the intense heat by swimming in the lake, enjoying the incredible beauty of Ohrid. So many memories were built. Sitting on the dock at sunset, feet dangling over the clear water, talking about our purpose, and encouraging each other. Drinking coffee together in a little restaurant below some cliffs, with the blue water of Ohrid Lake at our feet, an almost ethereal setting.
Laughing and singing, praying, playing, talking late into the night, sharing our lives together, building friendships that will last for years. Through it I gained a bigger perspective of God's heart for the Balkans, and the relationships built will, I am sure, play an important role in what God does in the future. I feel incredibly privileged to be a part of what He is doing here during this season.