Christmas in the valley.

There are a lot of amazing things about being here in Lupeni for Christmas this year.  One of them is that it's the first time Jack and I actually will stay in Lupeni for a week straight without having to go to work at all -- we can just see our friends!  Explore the mountains!  Make good food!  Take naps!  We always go away for our "vacations" -- either back to the US to visit long-missed beloved ones, or to other parts of Romania to explore this new beloved land, or even (very occasionally) elsewhere in Europe because flights are so incredibly cheap on this continent.  But this time we're staying put.  And look what a wonder it is!

An evening with the girls from church, including two who are home from the holidays from university.  We hadn't met for our weekly Bible studies this fall, and gathering again felt like such a homecoming!

A Christmas party with the Lupeni office staff, including good food and lots of laughter.  

So thankful for the sense of friendship among these colleagues!

A Christmas carol concert in Pestera Bolii, complete with traditional hymns, a choir of monks, and the fun local caroling traditions -- see below!

Yes, those are giant sheepskins with bells attached.  And tinsel hats.  And swords in their hands. 

The thief of joy.

Teddy Roosevelt was apparently a very wise man.

His quote, "Comparison is the thief of joy," is a mantra that has been ringing in my head for well over a year now.  It may not sound very missionary-esque to say this, but it's really easy to be jealous of others here in Lupeni.

Perhaps it's because we live in a small community, with only a few foreigners, so it's all too easy to keep up on who seems to be most popular, effective, integrated, humble, and hospitable.  Whose Romanian is most fluent.  Who has the most local friends.  Who sees the most effective and sustainable results in their work.  Whose house is warmest in the winter ('cause that, I am telling you, is serious stuff!)

But really, I think it's perhaps because living in a culture that's not my own, in a country that's not my own, in an apartment that's not my own, has exposed all sorts of insecurities that were simply hidden back in the States.

I was always jealous and insecure.  I just didn't really notice before, because I was always in places I felt accepted, loved, safe, and competent.  Now that I am living in a place where I don't always feel those things, I haven't become some crazy person.  God's just had the chance to point out that this same ugliness was always lurking under the surface.

Some days I miss the familiarity and comfort and security of our life in the States, in Grand Rapids, back among Calvin friends we loved and trusted -- not only because of their own goodness, but because of how that life made me feel.  It was so much easier to be able to hide from my crazy ugly sin there... or at least replace it with a focus on other areas of improvement that didn't shake me quite so much to the core.

But in the last year or two, I think I've been making progress.  I have moved from terror and grief at this new self-knowledge (think "weeping puddle on the floor") to this place of acceptance.  Not acceptance of the sinfulness that's so deeply embedded in me, but acceptance that God's grace is slowly at work in my life.  Acceptance of the pain of being changed, even if it feels like Eustace Scrubb getting his dragon skin ripped off, knowing that underneath is something a little bit closer to Godlikeness.  Acceptance of the indisputable realization that God knew about that jealous-needy-angry side way before I stopped hiding or ignoring it, and loved me anyway.  (In fact, he probably wasn't the only one who knew about it and loved me anyway...)  Acceptance of this long, long road.  Of owning up to my own sin.  Of asking for forgiveness.  Of fighting off jealousy.  Of embracing gratitude and joy.

This other missionary writer really helped.  Because he says it better than I could, I'm going to quote him here:

... I am getting better at formulating a second thought, which consists mostly of a prayer.  It's not a complex prayer.  In fact, it's only four words: "I'm sorry" and "Thank you."  The complete prayer is this: "I'm Sorry.  Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you."

And somewhere in the midst of my prayer I smile.  I smile because God is good, because God is working, because others have great stories to share, because it's not all about me, because smiling makes my face feel better even when my heart disagrees, even when the smile doesn't last very long.

It's like waving my arms above my head -- the "sorries" and the "thank yous," the prayers and the smiles -- scaring the birds away.

19 degrees, baby (celsius, that is).

Our office got gas heating a week ago. We're happy.

Like, really happy.

Like, this happy.

We definitely made that face when we walked into the office and it was warm. I can now get to the office in the morning and take off my coat. Kelly isn't working under a blanket. We're not huddling ourselves around weak electric heaters. It's so great. We're more productive. In better moods. Don't go home freezing anymore.

So be happy too!

In the news.

Romania's making international news!

It's a rarity, so we thought we should acknowledge it here too.  Because this news is both tragic and hopeful, both terrible and full of promise.

On Halloween, a fire broke out at a nightclub in Bucharest.  Apparently the band had decided to shoot off fireworks indoors, and the interior soundproofing materials which covered the club quickly caught fire.  With only a single exit and pieces of burning insulation falling from the ceiling, things quickly turned into chaos.  It didn't take long until the roof collapsed.  Thirty-two people were killed on the scene, with another hundred-some taken to the hospital with critical burns and other injuries.  Blame for this tragedy can be placed in a lot of places: on the nightclub owners, who allowed a band to shoot off fireworks in a place clearly not-fireproofed; on the fire marshal and other inspectors, who allowed the business to remain open despite clear violations of code; on a general culture of corruption and bribery that allows regulations to be enforced only for those who can't pay to skip over them.  Romanians are furious about the event, and the owners of the club have been arrested and multiple officials have already resigned -- including the mayor of that sector of Bucharest, the interior minister, and the prime minister, Victor Ponta.

Since Sunday, there have been protests happening across the country.  On Wednesday I was on the bus for much of the day, returning to Lupeni from a conference, and the reporters on the radio just kept adding to the number of protesters they counted in Bucharest's University Square -- by 10pm it was well over 30,000.  Many of the protesters are young, and they're sad and furious.  "People shouldn't have to die for us to deal with these issues," President Klaus Iohannis said.  But in this case, people did die, and the horror of it has Romanians on the streets.

It will be a long road to truly arrive in a place where democracy and rule of law function without corruption -- I'm not sure there's a country anywhere in the world that's truly corruption-free.  But the level of obvious corruption in Romania has had terrible consequences, and we are praying that the protests will lead to some serious and profound changes.

We've seen signs saying Bunicii la război, parinții la revoluție, acum este rândul nostru! -- or in English, "Our grandparents had the [world] war, our parents had the revolution [to end communism], now it's our turn!"  It might be true -- this might be the wake-up call that this generation of young Romanians need to truly get involved in making their country a place they want to live.  But please join us in praying that there will be wisdom, and patience, and prudence along the way.  A lot of people died in the war and the revolution.  Pray that no one else will die in this fight -- and especially that hope for an end to corruption would stay alive.

A different sort of trust.

So, our work here revolves around building trust among people so that as Romania develops, more people will have the willingness and skills to work together rather than looking out mainly for themselves.

What's interesting about living here for almost three years now is that I'm seeing ways that Romanians (at least in our small town, but in bigger cities sometimes too) trust each other in ways that I rarely see Americans doing. Not that we're trying to teach Romanian youth to trust each other like Americans do, but I have seen that us in the US are better, in general, at collaborating in the workplace and between churches. Big generalization, but I've seen it.

However, here, there's a different sort of trust. People sometimes leave their cars running while they run into the store to get something quick. Moms leave their infants outside in strollers while they shop. Kids leave their bikes lying on the street for a few minutes. Kindergardeners walk to school on their own.

It's how I've heard of the States being back in the 50's. I hope that Lupeni doesn't lose that as Romania develops economically and democratically. Maybe the sidewalks don't look great and there are plenty of drunk pensioners on the streets, but at least you can still leave your bike there and not worry that it'll get stolen.

Now let's all just settle down for a bit.

So yes, I know we keep saying, "We're sorry it's been a long time since we've written and this is what's happening in our lives..."

I'll do that again but without the apology.

This is what has been happening in our lives. In March, I (Jack) got some lung infection and was out for three weeks while Kelly helped down the fort. In April, I took two short work trips, we went to France for the 2015 CRWM Europe and Egypt missionary retreat, and then went to Cluj for a CRWM strategic meeting. In May, Kelly led IMPACT and SKYE trainings in Cambodia and Germany, and I got the VIATA ropes course ready along with two volunteers from CRWM. In June, we celebrated our anniversary at a friend's place a few hours away, and then my sumer interns came. We did a training week, and then camp started. We had a good summer (over 500 kids!! and we developed a new program that includes more hiking), but that meant that I was up on the mountain while Kelly diligently worked down in the valley in the office where the sunlight has a hard time reaching. I was done with camp in the middle of August, and we took a few days of vacation (camping in AWESOME places), and then I went to a training in Georgia for 9 days. That brought us into September, in which we went on the Study Abroad Program backpacking trip for a week, I had another week of camp, we had a week together in Lupeni, and then Kelly's parents came. They had a great two-week visit, and when they left, we left to the States to go to a good good friend's wedding and see a few people.

And now we're back.   :)

It's messed with us, being out of a rhythm and apart for so long. We're not in danger of going crazy or suddenly leaving or anything drastic, but it's good to think that Kelly has only two trips left this year, and one of them very short. We can be here. Present in our place. Not trying desperately to be present in whichever place we find ourselves in any given week. I guess we're young and our bodies can still mostly take it, but it's getting hard on our hearts. We're really excited to settle into rhythms of work and being with people and prayer and church and not have to think about finishing all the food in the fridge before we go on our next trip.

If you think about it, ask us how it's going in a week. Or two or three. I'm curious myself.

By the numbers.

Lately I was reminded (by reading a fellow missionary blog) about the importance of blogging about "the little things" -- daily events and stories, even if they're not full of "deep meaning" -- because these give a glimpse into the reality of our life in Romania.  So in that spirit, here are a few little snippets, organized by number... you'll see what I mean.  There's pictures too!  :)

15: The number of kids who came to the cantina on Friday to eat potato soup and be loved on for an hour or two.  Discipline and politeness continue to be problems, and yet seeing these kids is still one of the highlights of my week.

14:  The number of hours traveled back from Tusnad after a meeting last week.  Jack was there for a full week of camp, but I was there only for two days of meetings.  Tusnad's the smallest actual city in Romania (1500 people -- there are lots of smaller villages of course), and it's tucked away in the mountains halfway across the country.  From our remote mountains to their remote mountains by train takes a loooong time.  Like, 2:30am night train to Bucuresti, followed by an 8:30am bus to Petrosani, followed by a 4:00pm maxi taxi to Lupeni.  It was a long trip.

13:  The number of nationalities represented at a wilderness education training Jack recently attended in Georgia.  Sometimes living in this part of the world is really, really cool.

12:  The number of currencies I found in our desk drawer as I cleaned it out this weekend.  This included the expected (US dollars, euros, and Romanian lei) and the more interesting (Hungarian forints, Nicaraguan cordoba, Cambodian riel, Armenian dram, Georgian lari, Swiss francs, Turkish lira, Moldovan lei, and -- weirdly, since we've never been to the UK -- British pounds?!).  As I think back over the past 2-and-a-half years, it has included seeing much more of the world than I ever dreamed of, thanks to IMPACT international trainings, CRWM European retreats, and the chance to live on a continent where a long trip brings you into an entirely different country and culture, instead of just across state lines.

11:  The number of kids from our IMPACT club who came to our apartment on Wednesday night for a beginning-of-the-school-year planning meeting and kick-off.  It was really fun to see them again, though we've got our work cut out for us this year: most of them are entering 7th grade, and the drama and giggles of puberty are already in full swing.  You can pray for us...

10:  The number of counselors at the last week of VIATA camp, held last week in Tusnad.  This week of camp was for 60 ninth grade students from the American International School in Bucharest -- a lot of children of diplomats and businesspeople who are often in transition and move frequently, as well as wealthy Romanian children who can afford this private school.  It's a very different group than our typical clientele, but provides a really cool chance to help this group of often-disconnected youth bond with each other, talk about difficult feelings, and find a safe place to be themselves.

9:  The number of jars of zacusca I made with our friends Alina and Flavius a few weekends ago.  We spent a whole Saturday sweating in the hot sun, stirring a delicious concoction of roasted eggplant, roasted red peppers, caramelized onions, tomato paste, and spices over an open fire.  Needless to say, they're really beloved friends for being willing to help!

8:  The number of beds in our friend's hospital room.  One of our friend's sons was hospitalized for a couple of days this past week, and his room in the surgical ward had 8 beds in it -- each occupied by a patient, and each surrounded by friends and relatives.  I was grateful that there was so much energy in the room and that there was always someone for them to talk to, but it certainly didn't seem like it would be a good place to rest and recover... there's not even the privacy of curtains to pull around your bed.  The Romanian medical system, at least its Jiu Valley manifestation, leaves much to be desired.  Please pray for the good doctors and nurses who are doing their best to slowly change a messed-up system from the inside.

7:  The number of miles we hiked on Saturday, on the (possibly) last hot, sunny day until autumn really starts!

6:  The number of mosquitoes I killed in our closet today.  There's a mysterious vent in the back of the closet that leads, apparently, to their breeding grounds.  I think we've found the epicenter, folks.

5:  The number of types of berries we collected yesterday on a hike up the mountain with some friends: blackberries, blueberries, bittersweets, red currants, and elderberries.  Yummmmm.

4:  The number of nights we spent in a tent in Retezat National Park a couple of weeks ago.  We got to accompany the semester abroad students on their annual backpacking trip, getting to know them and helping support them through 5 days of beautiful but challenging hiking.  We're hopeful that the bonds that started during this trip will pay off in good relationships throughout the semester.

3:  The number of very loud men yelling across the street to each other right now.  Usually the number's a lot higher, but it's only 4pm, so we should be on target for maximum volume by 9pm or so.  (We love where we live...)

2:  The number of weeks until Kelly's parents come to visit Romania for the first time!  We're really excited to have them here.

1:  The number of wedding parties we've seen this weekend -- and this one's for a wedding at the Pentecostal church right across the street from our apartment!  Lupeni weddings (which are usually at least 1 per weekend in the summertime) are marked by a long procession of streamer-and-flower-strewn cars, which weave their way up and down the main street of the town, honking loudly all the way to the ceremony and the reception.  Recently we've seen a trend of giant veils and top hats to mark the cars in which the bride and groom are riding... but today's procession was more demure, with simple white tulle and red roses adorning the shining black car now parked in front of the church, awaiting the newlyweds.

So... snippets of life.  It's a good one.