No, that's not a typo.
This summer I had the opportunity to go to Europe on a mission trip to Hungary. My group of six teens and five adults stayed for six days in a "small" town called Nagykanizsa (which translates to "small city"). "Small" because it actually had around 50,000 people in it. A far cry from my small town of 6,000. In the Nagy place, we spent a week teaching English to Hungarian students of literally all ages, getting to know them and their culture. Then, after we left Nagy, we went on a tour of the country's capital, Budapest (1.2 million people!). After it was over I realized I'd had the time of my life, but that wasn't how it started.
Having never flown before, I was terrified to embark on 24 full hours of travel by airplane. I probably prayed over the Atlantic ocean about a million times. I got seasick over the ocean. Or, um, airsick. Almost got lost in the airport once. BUT I made it all the way to the hotel in Nagykanizsa, thankfully. After we all went to our hotels and had a (semi) good night's sleep, we got up and went to the gypsy market. Can I express to you how comical it is to bump into people and then apologize in a language they can't understand?!
At that point, I was mad I had wasted time and money to come halfway around the world. But then my group had house church with the permanent missionaries there, and also the group of college students who had just finished a week of what we were about to do. I began to realize how different the country really was from America. Hungary doesn't have a gazillion baptist churches. They have a few cathedrals. And,more than that, very few people go to church "regularly," and "regularly" is attending two or three holidays out of the year. I was so impressed by those that came to house church, because of the ridicule they must go through attending church every single week. The twenty or so people that came didn't come because it was the cool thing to do in town. These Hungarian people came to church because they were hungry for God.
I finally met the kids we would be teaching. And fell in LOVE. They were so eager to learn (a far cry from some american kids!). The picture above is me with three of the beginner students: Luca, Zorka, and Greti. Luca (pronounced loot-sa) was my favorite because she had these insane facial expressions that let you know exactly what she was thinking.
The premise of the trip was to teach english of course, but we were really there to teach people about Jesus through our actions, spe ech, and conduct (and the use of some very valuable translators). The Hungarian people seem to know a lot about organized religion, but not a lot about Jesus. After years of repression, the country is still rebuilding from past wars and heartbreaks, so I believe it is an opportune time to witness to these people.
Though my time there didn't result in any confessions of faith, I hope that my friends and I showed the children and adults of Hungary what love looks like, and why we Americans would travel thousands of miles to spread God's word to their oft-forgotten country.
This summer I had the opportunity to go to Europe on a mission trip to Hungary. My group of six teens and five adults stayed for six days in a "small" town called Nagykanizsa (which translates to "small city"). "Small" because it actually had around 50,000 people in it. A far cry from my small town of 6,000. In the Nagy place, we spent a week teaching English to Hungarian students of literally all ages, getting to know them and their culture. Then, after we left Nagy, we went on a tour of the country's capital, Budapest (1.2 million people!). After it was over I realized I'd had the time of my life, but that wasn't how it started.
Having never flown before, I was terrified to embark on 24 full hours of travel by airplane. I probably prayed over the Atlantic ocean about a million times. I got seasick over the ocean. Or, um, airsick. Almost got lost in the airport once. BUT I made it all the way to the hotel in Nagykanizsa, thankfully. After we all went to our hotels and had a (semi) good night's sleep, we got up and went to the gypsy market. Can I express to you how comical it is to bump into people and then apologize in a language they can't understand?!
At that point, I was mad I had wasted time and money to come halfway around the world. But then my group had house church with the permanent missionaries there, and also the group of college students who had just finished a week of what we were about to do. I began to realize how different the country really was from America. Hungary doesn't have a gazillion baptist churches. They have a few cathedrals. And,more than that, very few people go to church "regularly," and "regularly" is attending two or three holidays out of the year. I was so impressed by those that came to house church, because of the ridicule they must go through attending church every single week. The twenty or so people that came didn't come because it was the cool thing to do in town. These Hungarian people came to church because they were hungry for God.
I finally met the kids we would be teaching. And fell in LOVE. They were so eager to learn (a far cry from some american kids!). The picture above is me with three of the beginner students: Luca, Zorka, and Greti. Luca (pronounced loot-sa) was my favorite because she had these insane facial expressions that let you know exactly what she was thinking.
The premise of the trip was to teach english of course, but we were really there to teach people about Jesus through our actions, spe ech, and conduct (and the use of some very valuable translators). The Hungarian people seem to know a lot about organized religion, but not a lot about Jesus. After years of repression, the country is still rebuilding from past wars and heartbreaks, so I believe it is an opportune time to witness to these people.
Though my time there didn't result in any confessions of faith, I hope that my friends and I showed the children and adults of Hungary what love looks like, and why we Americans would travel thousands of miles to spread God's word to their oft-forgotten country.