Joys.

Just so you know, this post might be rather vulnerable and honest.  The last few weeks have been difficult ones for me.  Jack and I have reached a level of competency with the Romanian language that now plunges us into the realm of more difficult grammar, and my brain feels like it's reached a temporary saturation point.  We've been living with our wonderful host mom for over two months, and my independent, American, 23-year-old self has been chafing a bit from the constraints of life together in her apartment.  And for a week or two, I just felt lonely, and maybe homesick, despite (or perhaps because of) some nice Skype conversations with friends back in the States -- a tantalizing, real glimpse into the lives of people we love dearly and a place and lifestyle we've left behind.  But.  Easter weekend came, and something changed.  And I want to write about it.

I think the change came because, first of all, I finally confessed.  I sent a long, honest, ugly email to some people I trust and told them all about my bad weeks, my bad attitude, and the war waging in my heart between -- well, quite frankly -- the sin in me and the Spirit in me.  And like confession and accountability are meant to do, this burden of guilt and irritation and self-chastisement and bondage to my grouchiness and selfishness lifted.  It's being shared now, carried in prayer by other people.  It's been let out into the light, and I've heard truth from people who love the Lord and love me, and it's so Good.  So very Good.  So thanks, to those of you who pray for us so often -- your prayers are tangible to me these days.  I'm still grouchy sometimes and working on self control and patience, but at the same time I am continually being bowled over by all this grace and love. 

Second, speaking of grace and love, we got this crazy surprise of a package the other day from Jack's former coworker Lisa.  I've met Lisa once, for all of three minutes, when she dropped Jack off one day after work, covered in paint.  She seemed really nice, and wanted to hear about Romania and pray for us and support us there.  And then on Tuesday we went to pick up a package, having received the notification without knowing who it was from, and lo and behold: a book of encouragement, an incredibly sweet card, a bag of Reese's dark chocolate peanut butter cups... love in a box.  We don't deserve it.  Such grace.

And then there's all these things that make me smile.  For one, we got a postcard from our dear little three-year-old neighbor from GR last week, and I grinned nonstop for about an hour after reading it.  And on Sunday it was Easter for the Reformed and Catholic churches here -- so essentially, the Hungarian population of Romania celebrated Easter on Sunday (and Monday and Tuesday).  Everyone else goes with the Orthodox calendar, which this year doesn't put Easter until May 5.  But still, it was Easter for our families back home, and for half the population of Târgu Mureș, and that's just great, because the reminder that Christ is risen indeed just fills the earth and my grouchy, lonely heart with all sorts of joy and hope.  Plus, for Hungarian folks the tradition on the day after Easter is for young men to go around all day dressed in suits and ties, carrying gift bags with perfume and visiting their female friends to squirt them.  I guess it originated as a courting ritual, but on Monday we even saw little boys toddling around with brightly colored gift bags, presumably on their way to give Grandma a good ol' dollop of sweet spray.  It was adorable. 

And now our friend Andrew is here for a week-long visit from the States, and we're going to Lupeni for the weekend to move the first half of our stuff into our apartment and visit friends and go hiking and caving and rock climbing, and I just can't wait.  And the flowers are blooming, and today we made sarmale with Otilia and had a fabulous lunch together, and now there's banana bread baking in the oven, making me drool.  How can I not be smiling?

So thanks to all of you -- for holding me accountable, for loving me in a myriad of ways that amaze and encourage, and for being a community that reminds me and helps lead me back to the arms of Christ when I wander.  Much, much love.  Much joy to you too.