Winter has fully arrived, the coldest we’ve experienced in our seven years in Moldova. I’m accustomed to the mild winters here, and they have turned me into a wimp.  It is only -6° F and I feel chilled to the bone.  Our roads are barely plowed, the sidewalks are icy, and my vehicle is chugging like an asthmatic smoker, its diesel filter gelled again.

But in Moldova, this weather also means that it is the season of fur—fur hats, fur coats, fur trimmed parkas.  There seems to be a fur hat perched on half the population.

Some hats resemble dandelion puffs, encapsulating the entire head, while others perch precariously like a thimble on a too-fat finger.  Some are dainty and delicate, while others look like road kill that was scraped off the highway.  Some pelts are recognizable as mink or fox, while there is some fur that defies no other description than mangy!

People wear the myriad of fur garments for one reason—to stay warm.  Most church services have no heat and classrooms are cold enough that students need long johns and sweaters to stay.  Style and fashion are far less important than pure heat-sustainment.

When you are cold, you will do and wear almost anything to get heat.

The spiritual situation in Moldova is very much the same, a frozen landscape of lifeless souls.  The difference is that there is often just enough religiosity that people have the edge taken off their spiritual hunger.  They aren’t cold enough to seek out the heat.

I know the answer for our nation is not joining another church, but it is found in knowing Christ, his grace and mercy.  I pray that people will awaken to find themselves ready to seek something more than the standard targets: religion, materialism, pleasure.

I pray for Gina* at the Home of Hope, that her spiritual coldness will no longer bind her heart, but that she will seek the warmth of Jesus’ forgiveness.
I pray for my next-door neighbor, that he will burn with a desire for more than the religion he finds in his annual pilgrimage to a lifeless church service.
I pray for the pew-warming Christian, content with comfort and her safe walk with God, that she will seek the fire of the Holy Spirit, empowered to the great adventure.

I know this cold snap will soon be gone, but what about the spiritual tundra?  What will it take for the cold hearts to snap; apathy replaced with hunger, hurts replaced with healing?  What is our share of doing His work?  What can we do?

Praying for warming in Moldova,
Andy Raatz