Written at the End of Spring in Romania

Hello, my friends and family! Grace and peace to you. I hope you've been doing well, as I have.

I'm sure you know that the last several months have been full for me. Since I last wrote, I moved twice-- once, back to Indiana; then on to Romania. Most people are curious about my move overseas, so I'll write about that.

My flights were uneventful. Neither flight was full, and the one that I slept on had row after row after row of individuals stretched out over a set of three seats, like a bed. Germany let me through without a problem.

The scenery below me in Europe seemed to stretch on forever in a crazy quilt of patchwork fields and yards, embroidered with tiny white houses, and clusters of villages. Germany looked like it would never end, so I closed my little window and read. Finally, I paused in my book and peeped outside-- my heart skipped. Below me was undoubtedly my Romania. I recognized it at first sight. Soon, we were close enough to watch giant herds of sheep and little villages with Orthodox spires. It was surreal, watching the land as we descended, and stepping out onto the tarmac, to acknowledge a place as my home, and yet, be a stranger in a strange land.

My base is quite welcoming, and they enjoy joking with each other. Currently, their ministry includes hosting a church fellowship on Sundays, hosting a ladies' group, hosting a young adults group, occasionally hosting outreach teams, ministering in a particular village, and holding a Discipleship Training School (DTS). My current goal is to learn Romanian and prepare to staff the DTS, as well as serving my team in various ways.

As beautiful, surreal, and exciting as traveling and living in a foreign country is, it's also hard. I don't yet have a home church, the base is still relatively new to me, and I can't easily interact with many people in the city because I don't speak their language.

I miss home. I miss my family. I miss my home church in Mississippi, my other church in Mississippi, and my family church in Indiana. I miss my friends. I miss going to familiar places. I miss the water where I grew up, and the countryside and small towns. I miss being able to read everything in the grocery store. I miss my bed. I miss my old base.

If God calls you to do something, it won't necessarily be easy, but it will be worth it. That's what this is about. Ministry is about obedience, faithfulness, and a belief that God knows best. We're all working on those things, wherever we are as Christians, and we're all called to ministry. If you don't think you are, ask God.

Moving doesn't feel worth the cost yet, but it will. Targu Mures will be home someday, maybe sooner than I think.

Warmly, Ruthie Jo

P.S. I'll write again soon!