First Impressions in Bosnia: Part 1
I stepped off the train at dawn, feeling very alone as my feet touched Bosnian soil for the first time. I was supposed to meet a local pastor at 7:15, but it was only 5 o'clock, and Zenica isn't exactly a thriving metropolis at that hour. Wild dogs were skittering around the streets; one looked at me with a half-guarded, half hopeful look. When I spoke kindly to it, it ran up and began gleefully nipping my heels and wagging its tail. Word must have quickly spread in the wild-dog world, because as I began roaming the streets looking for a bank machine, all of a sudden there were three dogs following me.
Dario, a Bosnian pastor, picked me up for the church's daily 7:30 a.m. prayer service. He said he began it just with one other man, and every morning they walked around the city praying together. A couple of months ago, his church had grown to 30 people and 10-12 would show up to prayer in the mornings. Unfortunately, there is great tension between another evangelical church in town(there are actually only three Protestant churches for a population of 110,000), and Dario lost a lot of members. This particular morning, only one man named Yhugo was there with us. And yet, Dario played his guitar, prayed, and sang with great passion.
Later on, as we chatted over chicken sandwiches, I began to realize the formidable challenges here in Bosnia for Christians. There are actually very few Christians in this country: 500-1000 are the estimates. Dario, himself a radical convert out of a life of drugs and alchohol, has challenges that almost seem to be choking him. He has almost no financial or other support and he trusts God to provide for him and his wife and two kids. The tensions and competition between the Evangelical churches in town seem quite ugly, and contribute to very little cooperation together. It is very difficult to evangelize here, due to a variety of reasons. Dario is trying to do everything himself, simply because there is no one else. "I need help!" he asserts. "I need someone to come for 4-5 years so they can learn the language and culture and share this responsibility!" Our first couple of hours together, he was enthusiastic and energetic; speaking of the challenges and frustrations and yet his face continually lighting up in an infectious smile. As the morning wore on, however, I sensed a fatigue and discouragement settling on him. We ended up watching his two girls practicing tennis at the local courts and he seemed lost in tiredness and silence. When I noticed him glancing at his watch a couple of times, I realized it was time for me to go. "I"m sorry, " he said as he shook my hand. "I'm so tired all the time now that sometimes it's hard to concentrate." I told him I would pray for him and tell people about his situation, but I wondered if he had hoped for more. Although I am usually unaware of such things, I was increasingly feeling stifled in the town. "What is your sense of the spiritual atmosphere here?" I asked him upon parting.
"It is very oppressive, " he answered.
Quite honestly, although I am ashamed to admit it, I could not wait to hop on the bus and leave the town.
Dario, a Bosnian pastor, picked me up for the church's daily 7:30 a.m. prayer service. He said he began it just with one other man, and every morning they walked around the city praying together. A couple of months ago, his church had grown to 30 people and 10-12 would show up to prayer in the mornings. Unfortunately, there is great tension between another evangelical church in town(there are actually only three Protestant churches for a population of 110,000), and Dario lost a lot of members. This particular morning, only one man named Yhugo was there with us. And yet, Dario played his guitar, prayed, and sang with great passion.
Later on, as we chatted over chicken sandwiches, I began to realize the formidable challenges here in Bosnia for Christians. There are actually very few Christians in this country: 500-1000 are the estimates. Dario, himself a radical convert out of a life of drugs and alchohol, has challenges that almost seem to be choking him. He has almost no financial or other support and he trusts God to provide for him and his wife and two kids. The tensions and competition between the Evangelical churches in town seem quite ugly, and contribute to very little cooperation together. It is very difficult to evangelize here, due to a variety of reasons. Dario is trying to do everything himself, simply because there is no one else. "I need help!" he asserts. "I need someone to come for 4-5 years so they can learn the language and culture and share this responsibility!" Our first couple of hours together, he was enthusiastic and energetic; speaking of the challenges and frustrations and yet his face continually lighting up in an infectious smile. As the morning wore on, however, I sensed a fatigue and discouragement settling on him. We ended up watching his two girls practicing tennis at the local courts and he seemed lost in tiredness and silence. When I noticed him glancing at his watch a couple of times, I realized it was time for me to go. "I"m sorry, " he said as he shook my hand. "I'm so tired all the time now that sometimes it's hard to concentrate." I told him I would pray for him and tell people about his situation, but I wondered if he had hoped for more. Although I am usually unaware of such things, I was increasingly feeling stifled in the town. "What is your sense of the spiritual atmosphere here?" I asked him upon parting.
"It is very oppressive, " he answered.
Quite honestly, although I am ashamed to admit it, I could not wait to hop on the bus and leave the town.
posted by Melody at
1:42 PM
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