Starting Over

In many ways, we feel like we are starting over...at life. At everything in life. And this is not entirely true, but in many senses it is. 

Our vocabulary is that of a 2 year old. We are laughed at when we speak, like a two year old. We can't pronounce letters, like a two year old. We can't communicate what we want to say, like a two year old. 

I thought the police man that pulled me over was telling me he lived in Pogradec. 

I smiled really big and said "Oh great!" nodding my head like I understand Albanian. I later found out he told me if I was in Pogradec I would have gotten a ticket...He was probably very confused by my response. 

Our cultural understanding is that of maybe a 5 year old. There are some things you universally do and don't do...or maybe that's not true either. It is a compliment for me to hear I am fat. 

Our senses are constantly being bombarded like that of an infant. 

Every smell is new and overwhelming...kind of like your first time at Disneyland...but the opposite kinds of smells. 

Every sight is shocking, like a pile of skinned dead cows in the back of a truck being delivered to the butcher...your butcher. 

Every taste is new and sometimes unwelcome to your tastebuds...like pickles. 

Every sound is unfamiliar and you're constantly wondering what's going on outside. "What's that???" Oh, it's a goat. 

Sometimes, while Shiloh is playing, she'll just sit up on her knees, clench her fists, contort her face, and give an intense, long grunt. I feel like that's what my brain is doing 24/7. 

My brain is going back to infancy at a time when it wasn't programmed for it. 

It's like a volcano always on the verge of eruption. 

My greatest victory this week was when I was walking in the street and I knew what two ladies were saying...

One said to the other, "Do you want a banana?" 

Yes, that's all. 

I was thrilled.

And in that moment I realized all the things I am telling you right now. 

The reality of starting over. 

And this bleeds into the spiritual aspect of life here as well. 

I have a girls bible study every week and we are going through John. This week we took a break to have more of a hang out time. We painted nails and did make up and I curled hair for an hour and a half. 

The room was so loud. Girls laughing and talking and shoving for a spot in the mirror. 

Normally, I'm the one being told to quiet down, or calm down, or the one being laughed at because I'm constantly embarrassing myself. 

But yesterday, I was almost silent. 

Not because I wasn't thrilled to have all those girls in my house, or because I wasn't having a blast. 

But because I couldn't understand much. And I could say even less than that. And it was too loud to try to have a one on one conversation and pick up some words. 

At the end I talked for a little bit about beauty (yes with someone translating). We read 1 Peter 3 and I shared with them that was is most important to Jesus is that we have beautiful hearts. Souls. The part that will never die. 

And I realized how little I actually know them. I know many of them were saved this summer. I know they just heard for the first time last week that the Holy Spirit lives in the lives of believers. 

But I don't know their deepest struggles. I don't know what gives them pain. I don't know what they are proud of. I don't know what they are afraid of or excited by. 

I have spent years in America discipling girls. Learning how to counsel in different kinds of issues. Learning how to get to the heart of a matter. Learning how to invest and care and be consistent. I know how they think. I know their worldview. I know what makes them tick and why the do what they do. 

But now, I am stuck. I can't really do any of those things to the degree I would like to. There are a few girls who know English really well and I feel like I have been able to invest in their lives but even that is to a different extent. I can't talk to them in their heart language. 

And that's why we are giving our lives. 

So that in 3 years I can speak and understand Albanian. So that in 4 or 5 years, maybe I can completely lead a bible study in Albanian. So that in 10 years I feel comfortable discipling and counseling girls and women. Give or take a few years for all of those. 

Is that worth it? Is it worth it to completely start over your life when you could have ministered to people who's language you knew, and culture you knew, and worldview you were a part of? 

While I was curling hair, I kept thinking of the verse He who is faithful in little will be faithful in much. 

I want to be faithful in much. I want to invest in their souls. So right now, I will curl hair and make carrot muffins and study Albanian until my brain is raw. I will do a bible study with someone translating. And I will love them with Christ's love in every tangible way I can think of. 

So we will learn. And we will stay. So that one day we don't feel like 2 year olds. So that one day we can invest in their souls. 

Right now we are building a foundation. We are laying the groundwork. We are preparing and collecting the materials for the building. Actually, God is doing that. And even though He doesn't need us, He is letting us be a part of it. 

It's tiring. It's a lot of work. It's confusing and painful and exciting and beautiful. 

And it's totally worth it.

Fall and Not Enough Food

The cold air and the brown trees definitely signify it is Fall. Or winter. To me, anything other than summer might as well be winter. I mean what's really the difference. Cold is cold is cold.  

Technically, it is fall. The leaves are falling. What was green is turning orange and brown. The drive to church is beautiful. Fields and mountains of gold. Our pellet stove is on most of the day and we are so thankful that we have the heating all figured out and working. Everyone is bundled up and some people are unrecognizable. 

But, there are no fall decorations in the shops. There are no pumpkin patches with corn mazes and apple cider. There are no French's Fried Onions and Priscilla's Yams displays when you walk into the grocery store. There are no Pumpkin Spice Lattes or Maple Scones. (Can you tell I think about food a lot?) 

I have realized the things I thought I didn't care about, I actually did look forward to. Subconsciously of course. It's being so far removed that make me reminisce. Or maybe I just miss the food. That's probably it. 

And if I lived somewhere where it was perpetually warm I wouldn't reminisce because I would be so happy about the heavenly weather. 

It's the cold+the absence of "fall" that makes me feel a little bit like something is missing.  

But, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. So it's this strange feeling of tension. Kind of missing what you've left behind, but not enough to want to return to it. 

So, I will make pumpkin muffins and eat a lot of mandarin oranges because apparently they are in season right now. They are amazing and dirt cheap. We eat about a kilo a day. There are pumpkins everywhere also but the Albanians don't use them for anything. They don't cook with them at all. I keep making pumpkin desserts for bible studies and they are all weirded out and then blown away that you can't taste the pumpkin. 

One thing I am loving about this season is that life, in many senses, has slowed down. Our days are full but it is more of a routine than the psychotic roller coaster of the summer. There are consistent bible studies. There is much more time to study Albanian. There is time to sit down and eat dinner together. There is time to figure out how to cook with different flavors. There is time to pour into the church ministries. There is time to catch up with our families and friends. We have people over for dinner. 

*There is time to begin understanding this culture. Like tip of the iceberg begin. The more we know, the more we feel that we are in a fog. 

A veteran missionary here recently told Cory that Albanian culture, at it's core, has the shame and honor values of an Eastern culture, but they are masked by an Western face. 

Meaning, honor is a massive part of this culture but when your honor is tarred it's not necessarily public displayed. It is hidden in order to save face. We are beginning to learn what this means. We are seeing this as we build deeper relationships, run into relational issues and attempt to love people with Christ's love so as to melt away their chains of guilt. 

**Last night we had some boys from Cory's bible study over for dinner. 

Cory's Bible study-Going through Romans 

I thought 2 were coming. When 4 walked in the door I was a little stunned.

I had made 4 burgers. Cory's all time favorite meal is a blue cheese, bacon burger. So we thought we would give them a little taste of America. 

Anyways, I was currently cooking 4 burgers! Not 6! I made fries for 4 people, not 6!

The best part was, I thought Cory would be surprised too. 

Then my sweet husband said, "I told you 4..." 

I think I said "go away," but I'm not sure. 

I actually panicked. I don't really know why. Before I did something about it, I freaked out. At first I legitimately didn't know what to do. 

Finally, I started scooping up the hot, raw ground beef from the skillet and forming it into smaller burgers with my bare hands. 

I raced across the street to the bakery and bought the last bun to cut in half for Cory and I. 

I partly felt bad that he was going to get a smaller version of his favorite meal but not completely. 

"Are you mad at me?" He came up and whispered as I tried to finish dinner while the 4 boys played with Shiloh who was scowling at them. 

"....I'm trying not to be." I mumbled. My poor husband. At least I told the truth? 

I knew it wasn't his fault. I knew he had probably told me and I didn't remember. I just had to be mad at something, or someone I guess. 

The thoughts that run through your head when you are mad and panicked are kind of horrible but actually revealing. 

This wouldn't happen in America. Uh, that's not even true. 

I'm just trying to serve people here God, you could have made sure we didn't miscommunicate so I wouldn't have a bad attitude. Yes that's perfectly logical. 

It's awful and embarrassing but it's true. 

And then I realized I could let this ruin the night for me. I could be quiet, and mad at my husband and panic about the food. Or, I could serve dinner and sit down and love the boys that were at my kitchen table. I could make it fun and ask them questions or I could be quiet and boring and make my husband miserable. 

I didn't want the night to be ruined. I didn't want to be a bad testimony. I really didn't want to be mad at Cory because he is amazing and obviously thought he had told me. I knew that one of the boys is wrestling through Christianity. Doubting if it is true but wanting to believe. 

So thank the Lord by the time we had sat down for dinner I had fixed my horrible attitude. We had a great night. We laughed really hard and got to know the boys better. I was so glad all 4 of them came. The 2 "extras" were the other 2 boys brothers and they will be around for a long time after their 2 older brothers go to college.

And I'm thankful that the Lord revealed to me that sometimes, even though I think I don't, I do compare Albania to America. Even though I love it and I'm thrilled and feel so privileged, when things don't go my way I blame it on this country. 

Sometimes, I actually think that life should be easier here because we are "trying to serve." Why does our electricity go out, and our heater explode and our light fixture shatter? I know that's ridiculous, but it's in my heart. 

So I'm thankful that the Lord lets me be here, watching Him work, even though I am very undeserving of it. And I'm thankful for my husband who always forgives me without thinking twice. 

***Halloween here is actually a "new" thing. They have just begun to catch on. It is a bit different in that EVERYONE is a monster looking creature. They don't really change up the costumes. They put face paint on and have parties. A few kids stopped by to trick or treat...they asked for money. They are kind of getting the idea? 

****Today at the youth meeting, Cory is speaking on the story of Nicodemus. What does it mean to be born again? What does it mean to be born of the spirit? We are discussing these things this morning as we drink coffee in our kitchen. His audience is an ideal group in many ways. They have heard the gospel. The basics. Many of them have grasped onto what they have learned. Many of them return because they still have questions. On Tuesday, none of the girls in my bible study knew that the Holy Spirit came to live in a believer. They didn't know what changed them. So today, when Cory talks about being born again of the spirit and walking in the light, much of it will be brand new. They have never heard this before. Sometimes we wish we knew how to relate to that. To this complete blank slate of spiritual understanding. 

****We can't believe we have almost been here 5 months. Sometimes it feels like it's been 5 years. Which is encouraging. Because we imagine what it will be like after we have been here 5 years. The relationships, the language, the experience. 

Thank you for your constant encouragement and support. We know we are never alone. Because of Christ and because of you. 

And they are so cute...

Jams and Pickles

This was last week but I didn't have a chance to post it...

Besa lives on top of the mountain behind my house on the outskirts of Pogradec. 

It's probably not a mountain, but it's definitely not a hill. There should be a word for this kind of in-between dirt mound. 

I had driven there before to drop off "the frueets for the jams." Her mom is worried that this young mom from America is not ready for the Albanian winter. She's probably right. So, she wanted to get me ready by stocking me up with some frueets for the winter. Jam. 

We don't eat jam. Mostly because we don't eat bread here. The bread here is all white, fluffy goodness. It tastes good, but that's where the goodness of it ends. Sometimes I dream about Ezekiel raisin bread. I'm not joking. 

But the dear woman insisted on making me jam. I couldn't say no. Fig jam. Peach jam. Plum jam. When I tasted it my mouth watered because of how sweet it was. Kind of like a Warhead. Those intensely sour candies from elementary school. I haven't thought about Warheads in probably 15 years. But when I tasted that jam, it was the first thing that came to mind. Not because it was sour but because of the intensity of the sweetness. 

I think we almost rolled over a cliff when I drove there last time. There is literally a 2 foot deep crevice in the middle of the road. It is made of dirt and rocks but it is at about a 90 degree angle. It's steep and the rocks make it slippery.

Today I went to Besa's again for a visit. She is leaving for school in Tirana on Saturday and I told her I would come to her house before she left.  I told her that this time we were definitely walking because the drive was terrifying. 

I am a little embarrassed to say I was kind of dreading it. 

The hike. You walk a different way than you drive. I wasn't sure what the walking road was like but I was expecting it to be pretty bad because of how high her house is. I couldn't take my stroller because of the road and Shiloh Belle is getting chubby! Also, pregnancy just makes me tired. Not sick but super tired. I'm no workout phenom either. I wasn't looking forward to carrying Shiloh up the bigger than a hill dirt mound.

The pickles. I'm afraid of pickles. Not like I just don't like them. When I see them my stomach turns. And that's even when I'm not pregnant. I am always offered food everywhere I go. And for some reason, they do something to their vegetables here that makes them all taste like pickles. It looks like a perfectly normal pepper and then all of sudden you are eating a pickle. Last time I went to Bruna's house I was offered a red pepper stuffed with cabbage. It looked normal enough. Pickle. 

The time. We have been doing language lessons almost every morning this week. The power has been going off every 5, 10 or 20 minutes so I can't finish my laundry. The light fixture in our kitchen dropped to the floor and shattered all over the place the other day so we had to find a new one and get that fixed. I have also decided that when I said a dishwasher didn't save that much time I was crazy. Shiloh's getting teeth and is a cranky pig. I am going to Greece tomorrow to get her shots so I need to get ready for that. A long visit up the mountain felt like a bit much. 

Only selfish reasons. Nothing legitimate. My week has been a little full but whatever. Such is life. 

The hike wasn't half as bad as I thought it was going to be and the view was incredible. It's crazy how beautiful something can be from far away. That sounds bad. But what I mean is that you can't see the trash and the dirt and the bad roads and the crumbling buildings. It's amazing. 

Besa's mom and grandma welcomed us in and ate Shiloh up. 

Albanian homes are immaculate. They mop every day. Their is not a spec of dirt or dust in sight. It was full of gorgeous hand made decorations. Rugs, linens, napkins, pillows. There is truly something to be learned from the way Albanian women care for their homes. It is their job, and they take pride in it. 

We sat down in the living room and Shiloh was the center of attention of course. Whenever you make a visit to an Albanian's home you are given a candy and a drink that tastes like sugar water. If you are a man, you are given Raki which is an alcohol they make that is about 95% alcohol. The men here drink it all day long. Small sips. Coffee, Raki, Coffee, Raki, and so on. 

Besa's grandma is 94 years old. She got married when she was 15 and her husband died 45 years ago. I can't believe all of the history that she has lived through. 

I asked her (through Besa translating) about communism. The difference between Albania then and now. She liked it better before, she said. It was cleaner. Safer. There were more jobs. There was structure. She loved Enver Hoxha (known as one of the worst dictators in history). She wishes he would come back. What do you say to that? 

Besa then showed me her "paya." This is the clothing, linen ect. that will be given to her when she gets married. Her mom has been working on it for 2 years. Before that she was busy with Besa's two older sisters who are now married. It was beautiful work and looked so time consuming. Besa and her mom were very proud of it. Rightly so. 

Besa's mom gave me some knit socks that are awesome. She also told me she wants to knit Shiloh some pants and a jacket. 

I somehow got roped into eating lunch. My second lunch for the day. There were peppers. They looked normal enough. Besa's mom wanted to make sure I ate a lot because I am pregnant. I tried to explain 4 times that I had lunch before I came. It didn't matter. I'm pregnant so I should eat! I wasn't touching the peppers. They kept pointing and asking why.  So I tasted one. I think I made an awful face. It was completely accidental. That was the worst one I had ever had. I said it just surprised me. Which was an understatement. I was shocked. I don't know how they get them to taste like straight up vinegar pickles. I simply could not have another bite. I smiled and chewed for a LONG time. 

I later found out that Albania has a very strong culture of "returning favors" for lack of a better phrase. Or: showing honor and respect in a relationship is a constant ebb and flow of "treating each other." If I invite you to my house, you invite me to yours. If you take me out for coffee, I take you out for coffee. And it's not like a burdensome obligation. It is an honor. It is a sign of friendship. Besa had been in my home many many times. I couldn't figure out why she wanted me to go to hers so bad. But it was for the relationship. She wanted to honor me by having me in her home. In many ways it solidifies our relationship. 

I am so thankful that I went to her house that day. In such a short time I learned so much about Albanians. 

The way they treat guests. 

The way they care for their home. 

The way they build relationships. 

The way they care for their families. 

The way they value loyalty and conscientiousness. 

I left with a pair of pants for Shiloh, apples, wool socks, a handkerchief and a ton of walnuts. 

When I left, I invited Besa's mom to the women's bible study. 

She came on Monday. She told the women that last year, Besa got on a bus and met an American (a guy on one of our teams) who invited her to English camp. Besa went to camp. She became a Christian. This year, her brother came to camp. He became a Christian. Now, Besa's mom said, I am learning too. The rest of the women started talking about the changes that had taken places in their sons after they attended camp and got involved in church. And I realized that almost every women there, was coming to bible study because they had seen their sons and daughters change. They had watch how Christ transformed their life. And they want to know why. 

I truly cannot believe we get to be a part of this. I cannot believe that even though I complain about eating pickles and being tired and walking far, the Lord still lets me watch Him work in Albania. 

We are so thankful that we get to watch this little church plant from the beginning. We cannot wait to look back in 5, 10 and 20 years and see what the Lord has done.

Plumpers and Pumpkins

"The plumper is here!!!" 

Irida burst into the bible study right as we were about to begin. She was out of breath. 

She had messaged me earlier and told me she was going to bring the plumper by today because I had told her about the problem in my shower. She knows a plumper because he lives in her apartment building. 

"I have been knocking downstairs for 10 minutes! What is wrong with you guys??" She said. 

Have I mentioned we have a bullet proof door? I'm serious. There's not even a door knob. You need a key to open it. It's a 3 inch thick metal wall. 

When we first moved here we told the landlord we needed a new door because the old one was paper thin glass. So she got us a bullet proof one from Tirana. Makes perfect sense. 

Anyways, we can't ever hear anyone knocking because the door is so thick. 

Poor plumper. 

The shower doesn't drain. You can imagine taking a shower in a tub that barely drains. Ew. 

After I let the plumper in we continued with our first girls bible study in Pogradec! 

We have been having girls nights every week for a few months and decided now was the time to shift it into a bible study. The girls had even been asking if we were going to do that. 

We are going to go through the book of John. 

Today I did an introduction amidst babbling baby girls, translation pauses, and stick figure drawings. I always use stick figures and pictures to explain the Bible. Teenagers and even adults are really no different than kids when being taught. Everyone likes to be amused. And believe me, my drawings are very amusing. 

We talked about why we should study the Bible. 

We talked about how the Bible is many different stories but it is also one big story of God's plan for humanity. 

We talked about Adam and Eve and Israel and the promised Messiah. 

Every time I explain God's plan of salvation in simple terms I am stuck by its power all over again.  

I am so looking forward to this bible study with these girls. Please pray for this time! That the Lord would cause it to bear fruit, and use it in their lives. 

At the end, everyone stayed and danced to Albanian music for a long time. You hold hands and do the steps in a big circle. 

Then we all went on a xhiro which I have written about before HERE. 

And I was thinking about how everything we did this afternoon, were some of the first things that drew Cory and I to Albania. 

Their hunger for the Word and for Truth. 

Their fun and loud culture where everyone loves to sing and dance. 

Their emphasis on community and friendship. Even if this means walking arm and arm as slow as you possibly can for an hour and just laughing and talking. 

On our xhiro today the girls were teaching me some Albanian. They always get so exasperated at us. They think it is so easy and we are so dumb. Hahahaha...

I explained to them that Albanian actually IS HARD. 

In English a hat, is a hat, is a hat. It's a blue hat. It's the boy's hat. Its the hat that was given to the boy. It's a HAT. One word. 

In Albanian EVERY noun is in at least 10 different forms! Usually more. And I thought it was just the colors...

They also told me my belly is getting SO big. How nice. In America we just go around telling pregnant women how good they look-"Wow! You don't even look pregnant!" In Albania, they tell you you are getting fat. It's meant as a compliment but how am I supposed to take it that way? Oh well. 

Also today....

*Our power went out roughly 42 times. 

"The Almighty" came to fix it. He is called this because of his uncanny ability to ATTEMPT to fix all things. This means he can fix everything and nothing all at the same time. 

I am praying that in the situation he is more Almighty than not. Because, Shiloh's cloth diapers only last so long and I need electricity to do laundry. 

** I decided to make pumpkin puree so I could make pumpkin cookies for the girls bible study. 

If you are looking for a good way to bust open a pumpkin...drop it. 

I started to cut it but didn't have the patience. So I went out on the balcony, lifted it over my head, and dropped it. 

I looked up and 3 men on the next balcony were staring at me. 

They probably would have been staring at me anyways. I was wearing mismatched sweats and had a mess of a pony tail on my head. 

***Shiloh Belle is a wild child. She makes us laugh all day. Here is one of her favorite faces to make. 

****Cramer Baby 2 is 13 weeks and growing (obviously since I keep getting told how much bigger my belly is). 

*****Right now Pogradec is in an uproar. It's 9:30 at night and I'm inside my house but it sounds like I'm in a stadium. There is a qualifying game for the Euro Tournament. Futbol. They are playing Serbia. Albanians and Serbs DO NOT like each other. Majorly because of the events that took place during the Kosovo crisis (which I know little about). People were wrapped in Albanian flags in the street today. Cory is watching the game with some kids at a coffee shop down the road. He just texted me that they may close the game because of the fighting and explosions going on by the stadium in Serbia. 

Well, hopefully Albania wins. And hopefully when they do, they don't wake Shiloh up with their whooping and cheering. 

American Lottery

Did you know there is an American Green Card Lottery? 

Every year 50,000 people from selected more impoverished countries in the world are given Green Cards and a chance to move to America and "live the American Dream."

The first or second night of every English Camp, the talk is about "Hopes, Dreams and Goals." Where do you want to go in life? What would make you the most happy? What are your deepest desires and hopes? 

For a majority of the students, their ultimate dream, is to move to America. 

America represents opportunity. 

We would always ask them where in America they wanted to go...thinking it would be LA or New York or Chicago. 

"CON-NEC-TI-CUT." They would sound out each syllable. 

"Where??" 

"CO-NEC-TIC-CUT." More annunciation. 

"...Oh, I don't know where that is." 

Finally, you realize they are saying Connecticut and you are even more confused. 

Your dream is to go to America and you want to live in Connecticut??? 

You try to hold in your confusion...I don't want to burst anyones bubble. I mean, I've never been to Connecticut so maybe its absolutely glorious. 

Come to find out most of them want to go where they already have family. Why they already have family in Connecticut I will never know. 

"How do you plan on getting there?" You begin to ask kids. 

"I want to win the lottery." They all say. 

"The lottery?" And I'm thinking, this is one of the poorest countries in Europe and they have a lottery??? Again, you don't want to burst anyones bubble and say "look, the chances of you winning the lottery are slim to none so maybe you need to come up with a more realistic dream." 

Instead you ask, "How much is the lottery?" 

After a lot of translating and explaining you realize they aren't talking about a cash lottery but a lottery to get a free Green Card to America. 

This still seems like a slim to none chance. How many people get to go? 

October is the month you can apply for the lottery so right now everyone is talking about it. 

We recently found out that about 5,000 Albanians are chosen PER YEAR. 

In a country of only 3 million that's actually more than a slim to none chance considering not everyone is eligible to apply. 

You have to have a certain level of education or job experience. 

You have to have someone you know or family waiting to take care of you in America until you can establish yourself. 

In fact, we know a few people in the last years who have gone to America through this lottery system. 

So its not a vast amount of people but its enough to create HOPE. 

We were recently asked what we foresaw being one of greatest setbacks in ministry. I believe this has something to do with it. 

Most students want to leave Albania. That is their highest goal. 

I used to think they didn't understand. That they had an unrealistic picture of America. That they were placing their hope in something that would inevitably disappoint them. 

But the more I am here, the more I understand. 

The systems here are riddled with corruption. 

You bribe the doctor to give you the correct diagnosis. 

You pay your teacher to give you the grade you deserve. 

You slip cash in your passport at border control to cut in front of 40 cars. 

Because I am from America, I see all the problems with it, but I do forget about the opportunity it provides. 

If you work HARD, their is a great potential that you can achieve your goals. 

And that statement is all relative. 

I don't mean anyone can live in Beverly Hills or own a yacht. 

The goals Albanians are dreaming of is getting a job that pays for food and electricity. They want to live very simply. 

Not having to bribe your teacher to give you the grade you actually deserve. 

Not having to have your electricity shut off in the winter because you can't pay the last year of bills. 

There are VERY few jobs, even if you have a college education. 

And they will work together and work HARD for these things. They might run into obstacles and hard times and confusion in America, but not necessarily the brick walls of corruption they run into here. 

And it is not only America that they go to. They go to Italy, Germany, France, Greece and many other places. In fact, most of the money in Albania comes from family members sending it from the outside. Of the 6 million Albanians in the world, only 3 of them actually live here. Most of them, especially this younger generation, want to get out. 

I guess I don't really know how to respond when people tell us they just want to leave. 

It's a little bit of an odd feeling when you have left your home and your family to come and love them. 

But at the same time, I understand. I understand wanting to pursue a different life than subsistence farming or owning a tiny shop in front of your house. 

So we can pray: that the Lord would raise up strong leaders that would be passionate about their people knowing who Christ is. And we are so thankful to already see that happening. 

And its also good to remind ourselves that we are here to serve and obey. We will work hard. We will give these people our all. We will be faithful testimonies of Jesus. But we aren't responsible for the results. That is all God. We can plant seeds and water the plants, but only God can make them grow and bear fruit. 

And we are thankful to watch as God works! 

This fall, 5 bible studies have started at our little church plant in Pogradec! 

Last year this time there was 1. 

There are people in the street asking if we have a children's ministry or a women's bible study they and their kids can come to. 

The spiritual climate is overwhelmingly beautiful. 

There is hunger and hopelessness. 

There is teachability and thirst. 

We are so thankful to throw ourselves into ministry with these people.

Cory speaking at the Youth Meeting