‘’THIS IS ALBANIA!’’

Two days in Barum curri, not what most would consider an exciting prospect; I too was a little dubious at the thought, considering one major factor being the entire town only gets running water between 3 and 4am. But either way, passports in hand our unlikely band of soldiers cross the border again into Bandit County. I just use the term bandit country loosely however on this trip I find that as recently as 3 or 4 years ago the town was actually controlled by Bandits (real life bandits!)
It’s an interesting city, on the way to the mountains the cities sloped position bears witness, strangely, to a number of smart 1970’s German cars rolling the streets, wild dogs roaming the roads holding up traffic and the odd cow crossing the road amidst the people. This, mixed with harsh faces of the people, struggling to find a true identity in the wake of communistic oppression, war, poverty, freedom, religion and struggle.
Such faces we meet even in the youngest of lives we encounter.
So our Dutch counter parts had the idea to take the church out of the building, we trekked through the partially standing apartment blocks, across a field and clime over the fence into a school play area. An array of footballs, volleyballs, parachutes and such meet eager faces and provide hours (literally) of fun over two days.
However this isn’t the most incredible part of the weekend, after sharing some of Gods story at various times with the children and young people alike, as always in broken English/Albanian we manage conversations with some young guys on the fringe of the activities (just where I love to be). As you can imagine, ‘’..the landscapes may change but the same issues remain...’’ So as guys are guys, the conversations revolve around sex drugs and money. This one fella takes emence pleasure in telling us how he wants to have sex with as many girls as he possible can before getting married. However, the striking thing is that on asking the question, if found his wife not to be a virgin after marrying her, he would have every right to kill her!. Why, well, Coz, ‘’..This is Albania..’’
We reflect on the west and the opportunities of work and better futures. The conversations turns to other ethnic groups which he refers to as n*****s. I tell him, you can’t say that, he says, yeah in England. Maybe, Then raises two hands in the air and states the ever present fact that ‘’...this is Albania...’’. And on reference to gay folks, you don’t even wanna know his ideas but of cause the reasoning behind it is simply ’’..This is Albania..’’
Now I’m not naive enough to take this teenagers words as fact and believe all he says but you can help but sense a sinister undertone, maybe from the way these guys were raised, maybe from effects of past hurts and war stories traded over time, or maybe the odd 2008 range rover that rolls past with blacked out windows hiding the faces of the infamous Albanian Mafia (seriously) that have a big part in the history of this part of the world
However, all is not lost, as the unlikely, the few, the humble pass out simple booklets about a different way, armed not with the tools of conflict this country may be use to, but with sports equipment, gifts for learning bible verses and the knowledge of a truth so powerful it could turn even this, strongest of strongholds upside-down
Have you seen the movie ‘this is England’ When the guy is like ‘’..this is England..’’ pointing to his shaved head, ‘’..This is England..’’ Referring to his doc Martins boots, and ‘’..this is England..’’ pointing to the tattoo of a cross on his forehead.
This time it’s not Doc martin boots skinheads and fighting against the change of culture and colour. It’s not the sex pistols that hold up the flag of punk life style. It’s the black eagle and red backdrop, it’s the two fingers of a changing future of Sali Berisha. It’s a mindset plagued with the old struggle, the fight for freedom and independence and a place in the world.
When looking at the faces of indecent young lives with no crime to their names other than being born into this town. I can’t help myself thinking that this is Jesus. Seeing a young man so proud of his country but having been so warped and in his thinking by the environment he has come from, looking into his eyes and thinking This IS Jesus. And seeing young girls, hassled by all the boys, being viewed as second class citizens, objects of lust and fantasy with no real sense of self worth, self image or purpose and of how the God who sent his son to die for them would see them. And thinking to myself. This is Jesus.
In the shadow of the school sprawled with graffiti, a lot of which bears the names of the American Hip Hop legends and footballs super clubs, almost crying out as a life style that is idolised and seen as a way to look to. The name of Jesus is spoken over lives; prayers are prayed for peace, for revelation, for change.

‘’..It is not the healthy who need a doctor my friends...’’

If you get some spare time, please, pray for Barum Curri, for the church and its impact with much limited recourses, for the mentality and mind sets that are apparent. For peace, for change, for......Jesus.

Amen

CAN YOU STAND THE IRONY?

So tonight we had the privilege of joining with the havens in rejoicing (sorry if that sounds overtly Christian) As Mr Izmets brother gave his life to Jesus. Yeah Bowy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But it gets better, his name is Islam. Yeah, Islam. Islam the born again Christian. Does it get any better?

Hot on the heels of the rain maker

Yesterday I spent an hour or so with Vim and Lorianne from Holland, we talked about the emerging church, how the format of church had to change in order to reach an growing young generation who are increasingly disillusioned with the concept of church. I was able to share about prayer rooms; Christ centres communities and what has been breaking out across Europe. I think we were on the same page. They come from a small church group that meet in a house on a Thursday night (kool)

So as we talked we decided it would be good to pray at the top of Chibraty Hill, as many other have done, while looking over the city of Gjakova and see what God is saying to this city and to us

So we walked up the hill today (Chibraty esthe shume large nga shtepa im) we got to the top and shared what we felt God saying. Lorianne shared from about the feeding of the 5000, but majored on the fact Jesus looked and the crowd and had compassion on them and how God was calling us to be compassionate people. Tina shared from Corinthians and spoke about being ambassadors of Christ. I had the opportunity to share; I talked about how I felt God was calling his people to pray, and to pray like never before. How prayer movements had grown and spread across the globe. I shared about how I believed God is calling his people to feel what he feels, to see what he see when he looks into the hearts of broken lives, to live out compassion. To be the image bearers, the ambassadors of Christ in thows situations. We spoke about Christ centred believers with a foundation of prayer looking out to the needs of the city and finished with the old classic. If my people, called by my name humble themselves and turn from their wicked ways, I WILL hear from haven and I WILL heal their land. As we sat under the covers it began to rain, I hesitate to copy from someone else’s story but it did feel as thow our prayers were echoed in Haven as asked for revelation, for God in rain in this city to open the flood gates of heaven, and well, you know the rest

Wow, what a privilege to be able to pray and seek Gods heart over a city.

We walked on after a bit of munch to another view and prayed. We prayed for revelation, for restoration and for peace. We read from Isaiah (Andy A would be proud) Isaiah 54

8 In a surge of anger I hid my face from you for a moment, but with everlasting kindness I will have compassion on you,'' says the LORD your Redeemer.
9 "To me this is like the days of Noah, when I swore that the waters of Noah would never again cover the earth. So now I have sworn not to be angry with you, never to rebuke you again.
10 Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed," says the LORD, who has compassion on you.
11 "O afflicted city, lashed by storms and not comforted, I will build you with stones of turquoise, your foundations with sapphires.
12 I will make your battlements of rubies, your gates of sparkling jewels, and all your walls of precious stones.
13 All your sons will be taught by the LORD, and great will be your children's peace.
14 In righteousness you will be established:Tyranny will be far from you; you will have nothing to fear. Terror will be far removed; it will not come near you.
15 If anyone does attack you, it will not be my doing; whoever attacks you will surrender to you.




Good times indeed



An uprising is at hand
It starts with the humble prayers of man
In response to the heartbeat of this land
And as prayer, passion and unity stand
With mission and action Hand in hand,
We boldly make are united stand
As storm clouds fill the sky
In one voice we cry ‘’ Rain in this city tonight’’
That peace and hope would flood the streets
That love and grace would wash the people’s feet

Impromptu re assurance in ‘Bandit Country’

So, we were in Barum Curri today. There’s a couple from Holland hear at the mo, and they thought it good to take the mostly young church out to play some games before doing any God stuff. It worked well and attracted a larger crowed. As I casually excepted a call from non other that the delightful Mr Jonathan Biddel, slyly slipping away from the activities in which I had managed loose all respect and any credibility I had built up, over the past 6 weeks with my complete in ability to play volley ball. The day continued
So we sat down after and a group of teenagers that we had being vaguely talking to about life, God, love and the percentages of hot chicks in our respective countries. They joined our little pow wow, the guys from Holland shared a bit, there were a few questions, then one boy asked me to say something. Maybe they wanted to laugh at my ridicules Albanian skills (again) or maybe God had something to say. So I shared my testimony, in full. Some weren’t to interested but a couple were then, at the end, came a moment of revelation. Not for the crowd that were sitting around in the late afternoon sun under the back drop of graffitied school building broken cars and the dirt laces basketball courts, at least not as far as I knew.
It was for me, after coming all this way and busying up with stuff both now and in life, you sometimes lose sight of what God has actually done for you. As I finished the story this one guy who had been intently listening all the way thought and doing his best to encourage other to do the same said ‘’ well, thank God for changing you coz you didn’t sound like a nice person before’’ Blap Blap. Yeah God has changed me, from the inside out. I weren’t too good, I don’t think I would even recognise that guy now.
Thanks God for a timely reminder of what you have done for me, thanks for speaking thought the mouth of a teenage boy whilst smoking a fag in the depths of Bandit Country, and I just pray that some of what you said through people today will stick with him on his journey.

Nice one God

Thursday is prayer day!

It’s taken me far too long to make a decision, partly due to the schedule and partly due to my lack of organisation, but I’ve decided, if it’s possible that Thursday will be prayer day (maybe even fasting day too) To really seek God in this town, to walk the places Jesus would, to see what he sees and to call on Him (to interrupt Heaven) and plead for his kingdom to come.
So I set off, after my Albanian lesson with my pal Shkelsen, on a prayer walk. I headed down the transit road to Gypsy street (ironically maybe this is a sign from God) I got to the top of the road and wasn’t sure whether to go down or not. I love this place, whenever you go down there’s people on the road side, kids in the road, playing with stones or boxes or any other type of amusement they can get their hands on. This is the forgotten part of town. Someone told me when they first got here they were told they shouldn’t walk down that street on their own (or at all) I’m told there could be up to 300 kids in this community maybe 150 families or more. At night its ruff, drugs drink all the essentials for the high society living. So, in for a penny right?
I felt like David Wilkinson following a young lad deeper into the darken corner of the ghetto except it was Jesus leading, and me, reluctantly as always following. It was like every so often he would turn around and say ‘’It’s ok, Follow me’’ which made it all the more important to keep going. Now I paint a bleak picture and to be fair in the unrelenting sunlight of the day it wasn’t too bad, A few kids come and shake your hand in recognition of the stuff the church do there, a few older folks pass a broken ‘’ello’’ and ask where your from. I pass two houses of two of the young guys from the church on the way and feel like there’s real work and opportunity right here, as I follow the footsteps of the one sent before me to pave the way. Here is a mission field in itself. Its tuff coz not knowing the language you can’t accomplish anywhere near what you want to. But you can pray, as if it all depends on God. The church have a building there, its small, 2 room s but it’s right on the street. Imagine if someone were to really take an interest in this place. Open the doors of the house there not just once or twice a week but 24-7! For kids to drop in, to eat together, to help with home work or offer to talk. To pray, and to simply be. I guess they’d have to know the language, maybe they would need help. Maybe it would have to be a full time commitment, at least for a season. Maybe, just maybe God would begin to stir a vision in someone, for the dark side of town, to have a beacon of light lit in the middle, that maybe, could be sustained, in pray and petition to the one who hold all things in his hands.

In the words of Ian Nicolson

‘’Do you want to look for my fullness?
Do you want to partner with me?
Do you want to count for my kingdom?
Do you want to see miracles and stand for justice?
Do you want to see reconciliation and people set free?
Do you want to see nations transformed by the power of prayer?

Then come follow me
And I will show you where to go
It’s not to the platform and the spot-lit speaker
It’s not to the conference, the meeting place or camp

Come with me to the darkest places
Come to the hurting, the howling, hollow faces.
Come with me to the addicted, convicted and caught.
Come with your light
Run with your salt
Come to the sorrow; the suicide tree
Come to the stable
Come.....Follow me

2Pac once questioned ‘’I wonder if Heaven’s got a ghetto? Well, of course not. But when we seek to build Gods Kingdom on earth, I can’t help but wonder if we need to start in the ghetto?????

Who shall I send?

P.s I’m also making a cup of tea while I’m writing this and in my haste, I’ve just used 2 tea bags instead of one. I hope this doesn’t mean I’m gonna run out too soon. Idiot.

Wow

So yesterday we went to Brecocs to do the kids program, I told a story. This week was really hard, small team, lots of kids; it was tuff to get through. Had to cut out the games so, just maybe, they would learn to be quiet but, who knows. After, this guy came over. A big gypsy guy from Germany, he was firing lots of questions out about various loosely based Christian topics. As always its tuff to pic up weather some ones having a go or just talking, such is the language. Either way, at one point, he was asking me who I was and why I was there. Faton came over when I got stuck (pretty soon after the conversation started) I think he was asking what I was doing in Kosova (Tragically I always seem to stand out as being completely foreign, everyone can tell I’m not sure why?). As Pastor Faton was talking, he told the guy, I was an evangelist. What!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! People have said that to me a couple of times, but never, since I’ve been here have I used that term of even referenced that gift. He just said it. Just came out. Like it was my job title, the reason I was there.
How amazing is God, to confirm his own word though someone to someone, without the other someone really knowing what was going on but still able to hear what God was saying. Well, as per the words of Paul to Timothy and passed on by Eddie Gjoni, ‘’...do the work of an evangelist’’ better get on with it then ay?

Cleaning up

So yesterday we bought a washing machine, Its funny. In my life so far I’ve brought 3 washing machines, I guess I thought I just buy the one and get it fixed when it broke down. It funny how life goes sometimes.

Oh yeah and get this, we went to the shop picked the one we wanted, then picked it up and put it in a van. We paid and left, by the time we got to our gaff(5 minutes away), they were already there. They unloaded brought it upstairs. We called a plumber to fix it up. He said he’d be there in 15/20 minutes. And he was!

Wot, I think I like it here.

These are a few of my favourite things

Well, when I say a few I mean one, and when I say favourite I mean one of the things I just really appreciated so far (but that doesn’t make such an exciting blog title)
Any way so I had visitors last week, my folks came which was super. It was good to see them and for them to see what it going on here I really appreciated. Having the Gense hear was kool, it was good just to talk normal to someone, you know like guy talk. And of course it’s always a pleasure to spend some time with big Russ. We had a good time; it was a bit of a fun
It was a flying visit but well worth it. So one day we had lunch out at it set the scene of one of my favourite moments so far of my time here.

So, in Kosova, when you’re out eating or even sometimes in the street, you see kids begging. It’s a real tuff sight to see. You so wanna help them but have to understand that usually there’s an older brother or someone hanging back somewhere ready to take whatever money is gained to by cigarettes or whatever. So were having diner, a little kid comes over, sad face, all dirty and asks for money. Now I can’t speak the lingo, but, I try, in my broken Albanian I manager to get his name Thiri, find out where he was from (Brococs) a village we visit every week to do a kids program and that he was 9 years old. I managed to tell him we didn’t have money for him but if he wanted we could get him some food. So in the middle of kosova with my ma and pa and pal gensie, we had the privilege of the company of Thiri for lunch. While we waited for our food, I was just blown away by the way his little face changed, from the sad face of a beggar to a young, hungry boy, amused by the useless use of Albanian he was hearing but happy to be eating. We attempted to draw a house and a dog and cat, my efforts were tragically laughable, but, I’m eternally thankful that God gave us the privilege of seeing this little life find laughter, at least for a moment. It was like he completely changed from a little lost soul, to a little life that just needed to be loved. I guess in some tiny little way this how God feels when a life is turned back to him. What a privilege to be a part of.
After eating an entire plate of chips but not touching the roll he ordered he shook everyone by the hand and left. Sure enough as he left he took the roll and in the distance we saw an older boy take and eat it (hence him eating all the chips)
Now will he remember this encounter forever, probably not, will his life be saved, who knows. But one thing is for sure, at least for a moment he was in the company of people that cared and as we prayed over our diner and held hands we trust in a God bigger than his situation, that the prayer of blessing we prayed over that little life will surpass the dinner table and open up a life of more than we could possibly ask or imagine for this young ‘en.

Please pray for Thiri if you get a chance. We are at Brecocs tomorrow night. I pray he will hear more about Jesus.

Thanks for reading

A poetic view on comunity (if your intrested)

Someone asked me to write a poem on community a while ago. So i did, coz im nice like that. So made the worlds worst video to go with it as I wasent there in person. If you like have a little look and see what you recon

cheers

Ah, let me see you shakin your boots, goin back to the old skool, back to ya roots.

Listen to this while you read this post
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BOSESeSkVI0&feature=related

So, Friday was party time. Friday night we had a youth party, which is an outreach event. The youth are given invites to hand out and ask their friends to come along. However it doesn’t stop there. The team go down to the local high school, and begin to hand out close to 100 flyers to anyone who’s interested or that is walking past at the time. These guys have no fear in asking people to come, no worries of if they’ll like it, if it will be too cheesy, too heavy not interesting enough, backed by unrelenting faith in God, they relentlessly hand out invites to come meet with him. Interestingly a girl had just been shot, an hour or so before they got to the school so maybe the timing for people to be considering the big questions of life was all in God’s hands.
So at first maybe 20/30 kids roll in, the afternoon suns still warm and the venue is still bright, one young girl reads a poem, some of the young girls do a dance to a catchy little Albanian Christian number, we bust out a drama written by one of the youth, then after she explains the message and what it means to these kids. By this time the place had filled and there are knocking on to 100 young people there, a real mix of young city folk, gypsy kids, church youth and friends, plus a few token English and Americans to make up the numbers.
So I had to do the God slot, wot a privilege, to be able to present the message of Jesus to a full crowd of kids, some of who have never heard it before. Amazingly, and to my surprise, the place was basically quiet while the story was told. Good times.
Then we did some music business, now, I really don’t like to big myself up but let me paint you a picture. The night had now closed in, kids are packed around the central swimming pool, all pushing forward to see what’s happening, a few lights shed a little perspective on the scene. Young people of all colours and backgrounds ready to move. The unmistakable sound of ‘Smash TV’ by chase and status begins to rumble the speaker system which has already taken a battering. Then the moment we love the bass drops in the place erupts, drum and bass is not a known source of enjoyment in Kosovo so the BPM and the beat patterns are all new, I begin to roll a few bars, then the dance masses get into the groove. A little boy, maybe 10 at most, busts a bit of floor work ending in the splits. A kid does a back flip kick of the back wall, one guy that’s been waiting for his time moves in with a repertoire of amazing break dance moves, which tragically finish in being moved off the front area for being slightly inappropriate. Then in the climactic moment of the second drop one guy takes a stance on the raised end of the swimming pool and back flips into the empty pool maybe a meter and a half below.
After it disperses into the usual traditional dance styles around the pool to the Albanian sounds of Fonie and Pepe late into the night.
It was kool, (which translates into Albanian as kool) But all the action aside, there was a whole heap of kids that heard the gospel, in plan simple terms, in a way that was personal to them, and saw how you could have fun and still be a Christian. I’m so privileged to be part of this stuff, I love the way they just get the people there and trust God. It’s a lesson to us.

A proverbial slap in the face

So the English are hear, they’ve been doing a lot of really good stuff.
We had a kids program to do in a village last night. Faton and kymalina were with the English guys so I went with the church team, which was kool. It’s always interesting coz I’m like a lost child, not knowing what’s actually going on. But it was kool.
At one point in the proceeding, I was over to one side and got kinda into a conversation with some of the older guys late 20’s early 30’s from the village (you know the ones who aren’t part of what’s going on, but seem to just be there, seeing what’s going on). They didn’t speak any English, but we had a conversation, one of the team looked over at one point and I gave a little smile, like ‘’Oh yeah, check me out, I’m engaging with the locals’’

So on the way home this same person turned to me and said ‘’you have good time, you speak with young man from village? I was like ‘’Yeah’’, feeling quite pleased with myself. Then they said, in the simplest terms and without even thinking about it, but in complete honesty and perfectly naturally ‘’you share for God?’’
It was like being slapped in the face again. A wake up call from the very guy who sent me here. The morning before one of the guys had shared about taking every opportunity. Something I myself have even shared on with people. I kinda shook it off by saying ‘’oh, they didn’t really speak English’’. But I was shaken, in all my efforts to fit in, to engage, to be, I hadn’t even considered God, Or at the very least, thought about how to say do you believe in Jesus?
This simple 4 word phrase is reshaping me, I’m sure it always should but right now, today it’s taken me back to a place of re thinking and prioritising. Which is a good place to be. I think?

Acts chapter one, and a bit of two if your still interested

Yesterday I asked Pastor and Mrs Berisha out to lunch to review (it’s what us work folks like to do to make sure were on our game and don’t get fired) Also I’ve been thinking and observing to see what if anything I could bring to the table. Well the Gods story thing I think is still pressing . When you haven’t got the words to say trust in the word that breaths life yeah? (that sounds so corny). The guys here are kool and love the gospel but are all at really different stages of understanding of the word. I figured if we could put some kind of bible studding in place it would encourage people to read (hopefully) help people understand a bit deeper, give some insight into really being a follower of the way. Completely. Also it could be a paten that continues in home groups, which they would really like to do one day.
So we decided on, rather than the whole bible, we go for Acts, its a good place to start right? So in typical Kosovar tradition, he says good idea, shall we start tomorrow. I’m a little taken back but at this stage not shocked so set to work. Oh we also discussed prayer and the importance. How it is essential to our walk with God, not coz we get stuff but because it draws us closer to him. We talked about some teaching and church then 12 or 24 hours of prayer. They seem well up for it. Good times. But we’ll talk about that another time

So tonight we had our first bible study, the age range was old to young. When I say young, I mean 7. When I say old I mean 70 oh yes (give or take) So we jumped in, bit of background, author, dates reason, social setting (all learning styles gained directly from legendary bible scholar Daniel Jones) then we got into it. I think it went ok, some were defo into it, other were obviously not, but ya can’t please all the people all the time, right?.

So I though it went ok, but, Judge for yourselves by the questions that were asked at the end

‘’What do you think about the holly spirit, do you receive it when you receive Jesus or is it separate?’’
What bout baptism is being baptised in water simultaneous to being baptised by the spirit’’
‘’was Luke and acts one book first?’’
‘’If a man is bad all his life then accepts Jesus just before he dies will he go to heaven?’’
‘’If a family is cursed with a curse that passes from generation to generation, like it says in the bible, can it be broken?’’
Tragically I didn’t get to answer the last question but needless to say the guy who asked was quite interesting. I think we may have coffee with him in a few days.

I wasn’t sure people would be up for it but everyone said we could do it again next week

Kool roll on chapter 2.75.

I think you’re missing the point.

Do you think God speaks in the randomness?

I think this is what Ive discovered

So God is the guy on the road, his heart is the melon, I’m the weird guy and the mattress is Gods Kingdom plan. And the third guy is Gods prophetic talking donkey, or in this case, the call to prayer from the local mosque

At least I think that’s wot has just unfolded in my time with God. Cheers Dad.

So Iv been hear a little while, I’m still kinda floating. Trying to find my place, but I was struck the other day by my relentless self centeredness. I pray a lot (well, relatively) But I’ve found myself praying a lot about myself, where do I fit God?, how can you use me?, what can I do to help?, what is my mission hear?. Where in, the point isn’t me its God, God is hear, he always has been, he’s been working here for a long time. The prayer should be for awakening, for uprising for outpouring for dreams and visions for unity. And if, after I’ve prayed Gods still got work for me to do, well pak a pak (little by little/step by step)