Frozen Fingers...

I walked along, a tiny candle in the palm of my hand, my fingers growing numb from the brisk autumn air whisking around them. I couldn’t blow the flame out and put my hand away, safely in my pocket just yet; the journey had just begun. I had no idea what I’d be doing that night as I embarked to celebrate Halloween (or All Saints Day depending on how you look at it) with the people of Gilvanfa. Just when I thought the festivities had started dying down – the snacks were eaten up, and the music put away, everyone’s coats were clothing their shoulders – people began congregating and receiving candles in their hands, and I realized, the real event of this holiday must just be beginning.

She walked beside me, one arm linked through mine – partially for companionship, partially for fear of the utter and complete darkness surrounding us. A glass jar, with yarn strung around its rim for a handle swung from her other hand – a lonely candle rolling around inside with each step we took. We walked amidst some others from the town, young and old alike, some quiet and reflective, others playing around, oblivious to the respectful silence that filled the air around them. We passed down an empty gravel road for some twenty minutes, nothing to see but the pitch black to either side of us, and the star filled, moon-less sky overhead. Then slowly, a small, crooked gate came into view – lightly illuminated by the many candles walking its way.

We walked through the gate, the muddy grass of the town’s cemetery giving beneath our feet. We came first to a grave, which she explained to me in a whisper, was where her grandmother and grandfather were buried. As she lit another two candles and placed them before the grave marker, I read that they had both died this past year. We stood a few minutes in silence, praying for these two beloved family members of hers that had recently passed. She slowly led me through the cemetery, pausing intermittently to pray and place a candle at the graves of people I had never met. The last place we stopped already had five or six candles glimmering golden light across its façade. A picture of a young mans face, lightly etched in the dark stone marker - only twenty years old when he died…so many questions I wanted to ask – Why so young? How? Who was this boy? Would I have met him in the community center if things were different?...and yet all I felt appropriate to do was pray.

I can’t imagine how those around me felt as they stood at the place where their loved ones, friends, and family members lay. What they prayed in that silence on that cold autumn night. If their hearts filled with joy for the hope that their beloveds were in a better place, or if their hearts weighed to the ground with the sorrow from the loss, brought to their attention at this time. I couldn’t find the words to comfort their sorrows, or to remind them of that hope we can always find in God…but I could stand there by their sides, and pray. When all else fails…when I cannot speak – whether for lack of knowing the correct words, or for fear of being culturally inappropriate, or when I don’t know what to do to help the kids with their Hungarian homework, I can pray. No matter where you are, what language you speak, or what language is being spoken around you, if you’re in a familiar place, or feel like an outsider in a room filled with people you know, if your fingers are too frozen to even fold together, or your head aching too much to think…no matter what time of day, remember, we can always turn to good, old fashioned prayer, and rest there, in God's peace :)

Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints…

Ephesians 6: 13-20

Ps. I apologize for the current lack of photos….my camera has officially broken :)