A Glimpse Into Ordinary Life and Ministry as a Missionary

“She’s finally arriving!” thinks one Pioneer in Hungary as she goes to pick up her friend from the airport. The reunion is sweet and the conversation flowing when, two minutes from the airport, her newly-purchased van breaks down on the side of the road. A few minutes and prayers later the van starts back up and continues its journey…only to break down again five minutes later. Never one to be easily defeated, she keeps chugging down the road as far as her crippled vehicle will allow her, even enlisting the help of innocent bystanders to roll the van away from an incoming bus. However, one hour later and still only a few miles from the airport, she begins weighing her options: calling a tow truck will be expensive, but at this rate, they wouldn’t get home until midnight! Finally, the hungry kids and husband waiting at home win the day, and the tow truck is called. 

Choosing to remain positive and cheerful in spite of the circumstances, she takes her friend to taste the local delicacies while they wait, headed to the nearest and only trusted establishment of the area- the Shell gas station. She easily disarms the unsmiling woman at the cash register, speaking to her in Hungarian and putting her at ease with her laughter and jokes while her friend happily munches on Hungarian candy bars. Eventually it’s time to head back to the van and the waiting tow-truck driver. 

Though tempting to just turn to her friend and catch up in English, she begins chatting with the driver, a friendly man who she discovers is a chef in his spare time. The conversation moves from the intricacies of true Hungarian cuisine to parenting challenges and finally to bad experiences with religion. How can we be sure God is real? Can we know truth? What do we think about Jesus? Who do you say He is? Pulling up to her house, the conversation ends with his conclusion of “we just can’t know for sure” and her parting question “…or can we?”. She heads inside to feed her starving children and get her tired friend settled in after an hours-long airport pickup. 

We dream of those epic moments on the field where you see extraordinary things happen and lives changed, where the Spirit comes down in great power. Yet most days are just ordinary ones full of ordinary activities. Serving on the field includes the normal frustrations and mishaps of life, whether it be missed buses or plumbing problems or cars breaking down. We are called, however, to seize the moment whatever it might be, to “make the most of every opportunity, redeeming the time because the days are evil” (Eph 5:17). Sometimes this is as simple as showing love to the woman at the cash register by engaging her in conversation or planting seeds of the Gospel as your newly-purchased-and-broken-down van is being towed home. 

Hungary - Hopeful Shoebox Blessings

Article by a Pioneers Field Worker - Hungary

On a cold December evening, people unknown to us started coming in the building. Fear, mixed with hope and confusion, in their eyes.

This was months after arriving in Hungary, yet I didn't need to know the language to understand that lack of hope. Families coming in—all looking longingly at the Christmas tree and boxes under it.  Nearly all did a self-correction and you could nearly hear them thinking, "What am I doing thinking that we might be getting something like that? Who am I? Maybe someday I can provide one for my child..."

Some came in with coats on or heavy sweaters. Some came in with many layers of shirts. Children's eyes would glance again to the tree, to the presents, to parents, then to the floor. The church was filling up. It was apparent that people wore their ‘best’ to this event.

 The 'service' started. Songs were sung and a brief sermon was given.    

One particular family, seated on the side, caught my eye. Glancing at the tree and gifts, then looking at each other as though, "That will never happen to us!" The girl with them would look at the tree and the gifts, but you could tell she was trying really hard not to get her hopes up.

Then the names were being called out—each family was on high alert. I glanced over at the family I had been watching. They looked, then looked down. The girl's first glance was filled with hope, then the realization that younger kids were getting some of these boxes. It looked like she was thinking, "Oh, that will never happen to me. There are lots of people here in the room and lots of kids.” 

Other families whose wee ones did receive a shoebox (many from local donors, often wrapped) would gasp with delight. Sometimes you could hear a bit of the paper being torn, however, most were just savored (they received one of those boxes!) or set aside by the parents to avoid temptation.

All of a sudden the family on the side sat up as though they got a brief jolt—her name was called! Could it really be? "OH, HURRY! They may change their minds! Go get your box!"

She tried to look as calm and collected as befitting her age, but the edges of a smile couldn't be denied. As she sat down, they were touching the box and the paper and ribbon as though they couldn't believe it was real. The parents glanced at each other in awe. They watched their daughter gently stroke and touch each and every part of that box. Hope did not die! She really received a box!! This box had her name on it!

A look around the room revealed many smiles—a rarity in Hungary. There were bits of giggles too

Later, the people started walking out of the church, placing the treasures on the family bicycle to be pushed home. Hope walked out the door with them as well.