First Day in Latvia
- vineandbranch73
- 6 minutes ago
- 6 min read
What a joy it was to see Inga in person after about 24 years! She looked more lovely to me than the bouquet of yellow roses she was holding. Her brother drove us through the Latvian roads to our hotel in the nearby town of Ozolnieki. Their roads are not in very good repair, but at least they know how to drive on the correct side of the road! We had SO much to talk about in the car and spoke often of my father and mother. It was about midnight when we arrived at the hotel. It was perfect – simple and lodge-like. Almost Alpine in style.
I caught up with some communications and dropped into bed exhausted at about 1:30 am. The bedcovers bewildered me. It seemed my feet kept sticking out or the covers would let in cool air. Finally, I turned on the light and found that there were two long narrow comforters laying next to each other horizontally and not tucked in. I wondered what Eastern Europe’s secret wisdom was on this – I defaulted to turning one of them around into a long cover. I was about to fall asleep when I heard strange noises outside the ground floor window. It was kind of mechanical – but kind of like someone was in the bushes. I jumped up and peeked out of the curtains a couple times when I would hear the noise. Finally, realizing I only had about 5 hours to sleep, I closed the window, which had been cracked open at the top, put in my ear plugs and hoped for the best.
The next morning we jumped into the car with Inga and her dear father and drove a short distance to where a lovely chartered bus that held about 25 people was waiting. There were several home-group leaders and friends of Inga that were going to spend a long day with us on an outing two and a half hours north. They were shy, polite and curious. The language barrier made it a little awkward at first. You would hug and say hello and then stand there awkwardly trying to think of what to do next. Sometimes they would speak in Latvian and if we didn’t understand, they would speak a little louder, gesturing with their hands.
For about an hour, Inga and I caught up with each other on the bus. Then they handed out song booklets and began to sing in Latvian. We knew several of the songs and sang along in English. We stopped at a beautiful place by a small lake. We walked around a bit and took pictures. The flowers were blooming everywhere and the weather was perfect. (Unusual for Latvia which has a lot of rain and cooler temperatures sometimes.) Nearby, I noticed two ladies cooking a large pot of soup over an open fire in a big black kettle hung from a tripod. There was also a long picnic table with a table cloth, china bowls, flowers and black rye bread on it – and a saxophonist standing nearby ready to play. I thought to myself, “Someone is about to have a nice event…!” It wasn’t long before I realized Inga had arranged this for US! We were stunned and QUITE overwhelmed/humbled.
We all sat down and soon the saxophonist began to play with a sound track. Some of it was jazzy, some songs were Latvian and some were American favorites. The soup was being ladled out and I felt like I was in C.S. Lewis’ Narnian forest having a picnic after the curse of winter had been broken.
After that we visited an Alpaca farm and took turns horseback riding. It was Nathanael’s first time on a horse! Inga is a genius. The ice began to break between all of us and friendships began to form. Some knew some broken English and some talked with us through Inga. I needed a restroom and was taken to a very crude outhouse. Inga said indoor bathrooms are not very plentiful when one travels in Latvia. I had made friends with a little boy on the bus and he began to pick me wild flowers for my hair. He kept bringing me another and another until my hair and braid were full of flowers.
We had a service at a nearby beautiful old Catholic church that had been used as a hospital during a war. Their Latvian praise and worship team was thrilling to worship with. They had such energy and flowed in their gifts. The pianist was fun. I shared a short version of Daddy’s story and Jordan shared a short sermon, both with Inga translating. Afterwards with typical East European bluntness Inga said, "Esther! You are hard to translate! Your sentences are too long and your words too big! Jordan is the best!" I grinned. Note to self. Short sentences. Simple words.
n the way home, I bonded with the little boy’s mother. She knew a little English and began to open up spiritually. It was soooo vulnerable and precious. At one point she said, “I like you. I glad we met.”
We fell into bed late again and that mysterious noise was still occasionally outside my window.
Saturday, we went to a small church gathering in a rented room. The same worship team was there and Jordan preached such a beautiful sermon on “Do not fear!” He addressed their very real fears about Russia taking them over again, mentioning the meeting with Trump and Putin the night before. Latvia has almost no military and they fear NATO will not stand by them. They feel this because they aren't a country of "significance" and because they have lived under Russian rule before with similar cultures and a shared language. Many older Latvians know Russian. A few months ago, the President of Latvia asked them to turn their basements into bomb shelters equipped with food, water and toiletries.
Jordan is such a diplomat and so gentle yet authoritative in his speech. Most of all, he loves the people he is speaking to and the Lord anoints him. They were beaming. Nathanael, Jordan and I also sang together, “Show a Little Bit of Love and Kindness” which made me miss Robert. (That is “our” song.) They loved it, and we were asked to sing it off and on the rest of the trip.
After the service, they had coffee, tea and nice snacks around a table. I sat next to an elderly woman who was one of the earliest members of the CTO home groups twenty-some years ago. She is battling cancer but has the light of Jesus on her face. We sat there with no available translator, so we just kept smiling at each other and patting each other on the arm. Suddenly, we both felt the presence of God fall on us. Her hands went to her heart, her eyes full of wonder and she kept making little sounds of joy. The Holy Spirit became our translator – no earthly language needed!
A Methodist minister heard that Jordan was Methodist and had visited the service. He did not speak much English, but his 13 year old son, Jacob, spoke English pretty well, so he translated his father’s request for Jordan to visit his church gathering the next morning. Jordan informed him that he was already scheduled to speak at another gathering, but Inga quickly jumped in and said very matter-of-factly, “Esther can speak at your church. And Jacob can translate for her.” So boom. Just like that I had a speaking engagement I didn’t plan on. I asked the Methodist minister, Jannis, what he wanted from me – a devotional thought, like I had done that morning, my father’s story, or something else. He said, “That is a question for God.” I replied, “You know what? You’re absolutely right.”
Inga and her father took us back to our room for a little rest before heading out again. It was daylight and my eye caught movement out my window. A little robot on wheels was mowing the grass – going back and forth and sometimes under my window. I laughed to myself. Mystery solved.
