Romania...where do I start? Perhaps, I believe that it is best to start where we are. Right here in America. I used to believe, like so many other born-American’s that we were born into privilege simply by being who we are, Americans. However, once you take the time to venture outside of our bubble, not that I am saying our bubble is bad; on the contrary, you find something much greater lies in the American way of life. Now, I know what your thinking, here’s this guy who feels relatively inspired after a trip overseas, and now wants to change the world. My reply to that accusation is a simple one, “You’re not digging deep enough!”
Jumping back to the question, “What do I think about Romania?” Well, many of you are ardent readers. You follow the news and many Americans feel well-versed in the problems around the world, because of the vast array of information flowing unendingly from the internet. However, what I found in Romania could not be explained on the internet, by a reporter simply reporting the economy, rise and downfall of a country, and its government. No, the root was and is much deeper. There was a “Spirit of Hopelessness” seated deep in the hearts of the people. It had been passed down mindlessly to each incoming generation of Romanians and Moldavians. To say that Romania struggles to stay alive economically, and it’s neighboring nation, Moldova, falls even more behind, is just a plain understatement.
Like so many of my trips to visit cultures and other ways of life, my heart becomes determined to locate a source for a cultures’ belief. It was not until I was sitting in a youth outreach, drinking coffee with my new Romanian friends that God began to unravel the mystery that had been hidden so intricately behind the scene.
There were five of us sitting around the table, and for the most part the five of us were engaged in the game we were playing. However, one of my new friends was not playing, she watched me carefully as I played and laughed, and then she studied me waiting for just the right moment to start asking the questions that were playing on her mind. “Shared,”(“Jared” She said in broken English with a strong Romanian accent). “What you want to do...” She said trailing off. It was my turn, so I contemplated my move and made it, and as the uprise came from the table, I addressed her. “What do I want to do about what?” I said trying to make sure I knew what she meant. Most of the team we worked with spoke English but some of them spoke no English; however, even some of the English was hard to understand sometimes. She thought for a minute about my question. I could tell she was going over the English in her head trying to make sure she had asked what she wanted. She adjusted herself in the chair, and addressed me again, “Shared, do you have a dream?” She finished with a smile. I had forgotten all about the game, and another friend tapped me on the shoulder, and motioned that it was my turn. (She didn’t speak English). I took my turn quickly, and turned to my conversation. “Oh, I have so many dreams...” (What I said isn’t important) after I finished I asked her the same question. “What are your dreams?” However, she didn’t answer me, and she looked down at her hands. She answered very slowly, because she was trying to find the right English words to answer. “You dream, because you are American.....you can dream because you have money...” I was almost insulted at this accusation, but my spirit began to percolate on the inside of me. There was something behind this accusation. An answer to a deep seated root living in the people in this country, including and especially in the thinking of the Christian Romanians/Moldavians. If you look at the world with a poverty mindset, then you will view the gospel through that mindset, and I had already begun to see this mindset showing up in our prayer time together. Our team from ORU, weren’t the greatest pray-ers, but we had an understanding of God that I had believed was obvious. Although it was becoming more and more clear to me that this thinking was completely absent in their understanding of the gospel. Poverty drove their decisions, and controlled their finances, because Poverty was in them. Poverty was in the minds of the people of Romania no matter how much they read that Jesus became poor for their sake that we might become rich. Poverty was hidden deep in their souls.
I was still thinking about what to say to her. I didn’t want to act offended, but I knew that I hadn’t got where I was because my parents were rich and I definitely hadn’t arrived there because I was rich. God had been responsible for every penny that crossed my fingers. Not to say that my parents hadn’t worked to provide for me, but there is a greater understanding that God is the ultimate provider, not a job. I kept playing the game, and I could feel her eyes still glued to me. I didn’t even know where to start. I thought that every man or woman on the earth has dreams. Who doesn’t dream? I had run out options. All I had left was to blatantly address the accusations that had pressed against me. "Why do you say that dreaming is an American thing?" She looked at me with puzzlement. "I don't understand..."She replied slowly. "You said that dreaming is something you do, because you are American." She looked like she had been caught in the act of doing something bad. I decided to stop a religious spirit that was working her right that moment. "The gospel is not American you know." She raised her eyebrows, and now half of the table had quite playing and was watching us and listening. I continued, "Jesus is the one that provides for me, not being an American..." "No, but you have money, you are American." I wanted to roll my eyes. It's so common to go over seas and everyone thinks that every American is rich. I don’t want to knock over anyone’s belief system towards a prosperous gospel, but what I am saying is that the ability to be well-off financially in God is a blessing that is not limited to the United States of America, or any other birthplace.
I turned my head back to the game, but I was really trying to listen to my spirit. Honestly, I had run smack into a HUGE problem in their country. One that I wasn’t sure I could even begin to address. I felt like I had run into the “Momma Bear” of the problem. I think what bothered me the most wasn’t the problem itself, it was the fact that the Christians/Missionaries in Romania/Moldova were empowering the problem. They believed that somehow it was God’s will for them to live in this whirl of poverty and dreamlessness, and that the only hope in this life was after death, the hope of eternity. While the hope of eternity is glorious, there is much more to the life lived with God on this earth.
I was already over my head in this mess, and everyone was still looking to me to address the problem presented. I don’t know if it was the Holy Spirit or just my personal effort to fix the problem, but I breathed out and continued. “Haven’t you ever had a dream?” She was picking at her hands. “Of course, I did but after a while you realize that maybe...that is not what God wants.” “What do you mean?” Another girl from the table chimed in suddenly, “Just because you have a dream doesn’t mean it’s going to happen...” There was that hopelessness mentality creeping back into the conversation. The people there are taught that you are powerless to change anything, and to try to work yourself up to believe otherwise will just disappoint you. However, my bible says, “Hope DEFERRED makes the heart sick...”
We continued to discuss back and forth. We talked about the dreams she used to have, and I found myself amazed that I had to “defend” dreaming. I thought such a thing was unheard of-- apparently not.
Over the next few days, I was very concerned about the problems I had seen. We continued on with our activities, but part wasn’t really there. I was still back in our conversation about dreaming. It really bothered me that they didn’t know what I knew about God...or maybe that they didn’t believe it. I can’t remember exactly when it happen, but one day the Lord began to talk to me about it (or maybe I was finally listening). Now, I am going to paraphrase what He said, “Jared, the problem lies much deeper than your looking. Not dreaming is just symptom of the deeper issue. The real issue is that they don’t know that I am good. They have no knowledge of my goodness. Do you remember when Oral Roberts started to teach ‘God is a good God?’ People had all kinds of problems with him teaching that. It was still true, but Satan had hidden it for centuries. Although, there was much contraversey around that belief its’ truth spread like wildfire around the United States and other parts of the world. People started expecting me to do ‘good’ things, and I was happy to do them, because the knowledge had been hidden for so long. Healing began to return to the church, and revelation began to pour out -- ‘God wasn’t mad anymore...” As he told me all of this suddenly everything had made sense. I thought back to our prayer meetings at the base. The way the talked to God was like He was mad at them, and I couldn’t understand why, but I did now. He finished with, “Jared, they need to know that I AM GOOD! Beyond anything they have ever known. That I am full of mercy, and am all love. I want them to know me. I want them to know my goodness and my love....” As He spoke I could feel God’s heart for Romania/Moldova beginning to stir in me. The question remained, where and how would I begin to teach about this?
The answer to that question came sooner than I thought and easier as well. I was about to go to bed one night when one of the people from the base approached me. “Shared(Jared), I hear you say God is good, this is very interesting to me could you talk to me about it...” From there the doors were opened. Without asking or ever trying a small crowd from the base would sit around me every night while we talked about God’s goodness towards, health, prosperity, his intoxicating love, and his never-ending mercy. They began to ask for more every night. We listened to ministers on my computer: Bill Johnson, Heidi Baker, Janice Seney. Every night I would get a knock on my door. “Shared(Jared) are we going to talk tonight...?”
On the last night before we left Romania, the girl that had had the original talk with me about dreams approached me. “Shared, can I talk to you for a minute? I need to tell you something. First, you were right about me...I still want to dream. I want to thank you, because I now know that God is good, he loves me soo much, he wants me to be well, and to do well....Thank you! I know He is good, because he sent you to Romania for me...” I froze there in the moment. God was smiling on the inside of me, and His love for this girl was beginning to make me cry.
What about Romania? We are born in America with the responsibility to teach the world to dream...to live in the very best of God. To see his goodness displayed in our lives. We may not have changed all of Romania or done a whole lot on the surface, but we began a cultural shift in the hearts of the people, and we planted the seeds of a glorious gospel in the hearts of the missionaries there. And for that I owe all the Glory to God!
