December, 2005

After returning from a trip to visit friends in Boston in June, I felt that I didn't ever want to travel again. Even going as far as Rochester , a town 30 miles away, seemed overwhelming. I was contented to stay at home, sitting beneath a canopy under the magnificent maple tree in my parents' back yard and watching the finches and chickadees quarrel at the bird feeder or the squirrels sport in the trees around the yard. I thought I'd never travel again.

I don't know what happened to change all that, but in early September an overwhelming desire to visit Albania came over me. Perhaps it was the feeling that if I didn't go now, I would never be able to go. I wasn't getting any better, so waiting would only make it less possible. I told Nathan that I wanted to go, but I thought he would tell me it wasn't a good idea. On the contrary, he was very supportive. If I wanted to go, he would do all he could to make it possible.

We began to make plans for our trip. Nathan consulted our doctor in Albania , but the doctor was very apprehensive about the idea. If I took a sudden turn for the worse, he said, it would be very difficult for him to get me out of Albania . Most airlines do not like to carry seriously ill passengers. Though we were a bit discouraged by the doctor's words, we decided to go ahead with our plans to travel. My desire to see our wonderful friends and co-workers in Albania was growing each day, and I felt that if this desire were from God, he would take care of me. One of our chief concerns was regarding my hemoglobin. I had been getting regular blood transfusions for several months because my hemoglobin had dropped very low and my body no longer seemed able to produce it. We made this a matter of prayer and fasting.

We booked our tickets, packed our bags and prepared to leave, but as our departure approached, I began to feel worse and worse. I started running a fever and was wracked with pain. I knew that I could not go in such a condition, but would I ever get to feeling well enough to travel? We postponed our trip for a week, knowing full well that I might not be feeling any better in a week. On the day that we originally were to have flown, I was sitting in a chair downstairs. It was evening and I was feverish and uncomfortable. I was feeling the worst I had ever felt. Suddenly the front door of the house opened, and my father walked in with the pastor from his church. My father had seen how miserable I was, and out of compassion had brought the pastor over to pray for me. After the two of them and Nathan laid hands on me and prayed, a remarkable thing happened. I felt a definite change in my body temperature, a cooling down. By the next morning, I was feeling much better and was certain that the change in my condition was a result of the prayers that had been said for me.

Over the next week, I had time to regulate some new slow-release pain medication that had been prescribed for me and also to manage its unpleasant side effects, which included terrible sleepiness that usually hit late morning each day. By the time we were to leave, I was feeling much better and was prepared to take on our adventure with enthusiasm. One thing, however, began to unnerve me that week as we waited to see how things would go with my health. On two occasions, as I was in that half-conscious state after waking up from an afternoon nap, I felt an overwhelming dread--the fear that I might get trapped in Albania . I told myself I was being silly and pushed it aside, but it lingered in the recesses of my mind and came back later much more forcefully.

Several days before we were to leave, my hemoglobin was checked again. I had hoped that after praying so hard, it would go up so that I wouldn't have to worry while we were away, but it had dropped again, though not at such a rapid rate. I was given two units of blood then and prayed that it would hold me for the ten days that we were to be away.

We departed as planned on October 3 from Minneapolis and flew to Albania via Washington D.C. and Vienna . At every step, whether it was check-in or security or boarding, things went unusually smoothly. Each time as we disembarked, I was met by either an escort with a wheelchair, or by a handicap vehicle, which meant I did not get exhausted by having to walk across the airports.

Because I needed to be able to stretch out and sleep during our trans-Atlantic flight, I flew business class, while Nathan and the children flew coach. Although I was not happy about being separated from my family, I was very grateful to be traveling in such comfort, which had been made possible by a very generous gift from a dear friend. However, my fear of being trapped in Albania did strike again just after I boarded the plane. As I heard the plane doors being shut and bolted, I panicked. I have never had a panic attack, but at that moment I was overwhelmed by fear. I said to myself, “I'm going to have a panic attack, and then they'll put me off the plane.” Then I panicked about panicking. I wished over and over again that Nathan were with me, but he was in the back with the children, and I couldn't run back to him because we were preparing for take-off. All I could do was to begin praying slowly and rhythmically, “Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy. Lord have mercy.” I repeated that phrase over and over silently. In the back of my mind I also prayed, “Lord, you've promised your strength when we are weak, and now I am terribly weak.” Gradually, my fears began to subside, and I took in my surroundings. “How many times in your life are you going to fly business class?” I asked myself. “You ought to enjoy this, because if you get well, you'll never fly like this again.” I did enjoy myself on that flight. I was seated next to a very nice gentleman, who, upon learning why I was flying to Albania , was extremely kind and compassionate to me. His wife had had breast cancer, and, although she had been cancer-free for over six years, was still very fearful about the cancer returning. We had an interesting conversation during dinner, which helped to allay further my fears. I thanked God many times afterwards for his grace for that trip.

I thought that when I arrived in Albania , I would be overwhelmed by my emotions. I was sure that I was going to fall down and kiss the ground. I didn't. It was all too familiar—the sites and sounds of the airport—and the old habits and rhythms of living in that context came right back. It was as though we'd been gone just for a holiday. Even my facility in the Albanian language came back. In fact, I was even better in my use of it because I forgot to be self-conscious about my ability and just talked. Whereas in the past, I had always been so concerned about speaking correctly that sometimes I wouldn't say anything at all. My ease in speaking the language stayed with me throughout the entire visit, and I was so thankful to God for granting me this gift of communication.

We spent ten very happy days in Albania . Grant and Carina Van Cleve, missionaries with YWAM and very good friends, had graciously offered to move out of their spacious apartment during our visit so that we could have their living quarters to ourselves. It was a perfect setting. We could receive guests there, but I could also get away as needed during the day to rest. Located on the ninth floor, the apartment offered a wonderful view of the city, but also provided a reprieve from the bustle of people and cars and relief from the busyness of our schedule.

Our time was filled with wonderful conversations with people. There was so much to hear and see. We had missed these dear friends. During our visit, we didn't think so much about work. That would always be there. We thought about how much we loved these precious people and what joy we had in being together with them again, sharing our hopes and concerns. We met people for lunch and dinner almost every day, including Archbishop Anastasios, who invited us for a private lunch at the Archdiocese and was extremely kind in his attentions to us. Sometimes we ate out; at other times friends came to us, bringing a meal with them. Sometimes it was traditional Albanian food, and I thoroughly enjoyed sampling the local cuisine again.

We rejoiced with those who were rejoicing and struggled together with those who were struggling. Nathan arranged many meetings with co-workers and friends and was able to do some work while we were there. We spent a day at the seminary, visiting with Bishop Ilia and the students, who prepared a lovely program for us and afterwards gave me flowers. As we sat at lunch, I noticed that our table was spread with a white cloth and strewn with flowers. I learned afterwards that the girls had done that especially for me—something they had learned at camp the previous year when we decorated for our garden tea party. I was so pleased. They were so good at taking a few simple ideas and making them their own. This is what our work was all about—equipping others so that they could continue on their own.

Our children took to Albania and their friends as though they had never been gone. I marveled at how true it was that they were most at home in Albania . Until this year they had known little of the States. Tristan remembered much of his Albanian, and seemed comfortable speaking it. Katherine didn't remember words, but did understand quite a bit.

If I have to choose a highlight of our stay, I would say it was the event promoting my book, Resurrection, to the public. A number of pictures from this event have been posted to this website, so you can see them, if you're interested. The event, which was held at the Gallery of Arts, was organized by our co-workers George Russell and Ana Kruja, who went to great lengths to plan an incredible event. I had no idea such an event was being organized until after we arrived in Tirana, and at first I was quite daunted by the idea. Although I have done a lot of public speaking in my life, since becoming ill I have found myself reluctant to do anything public. I knew that for a book promotion, I would be expected to give a speech, and the idea seemed overwhelming. However, I was pleased at the thought that a public launching of my book would bring visibility to the tremendous work of the Orthodox Church that had been accomplished over the past 14 years under the leadership of Archbishop Anastasios. Because of this, I set aside my own reluctance to participate and embraced the project with enthusiasm.