(a post from Christina) Almost exactly 10 years ago my husband looked at me and said something like “what if we travel, do missions, maybe even go to Hungary since you speak the language?”. As a new Christian and newly married young woman I was already living my life outside the box enough, thank you very much, and didn’t need to do anything else. I grew up Catholic and knew very little about missionaries, but I could tell you bad things happened when people went out of the country, and oh yeah, have I mentioned I have a TERRIFYING fear of flying? So I looked at him and said “I’m pretty sure I will NEVER do that”. Never say never folks. Really. Don’t do it. Ever.

I had never been to Hungary. Growing up the only child of Hungarian immigrants, I tried to stay as far away from my roots as possible. I soon learned however that roots are a hard thing to escape. While my middle school mates had PB&J for lunch, I had hard boiled eggs and salami. My mother’s accent is so thick she has never been able to order a hamburger at a drive thru and be understood the first time, and above our fireplace was a GIANT oil canvas of the virgin Mary. There is a story told in our family that during the Hungarian Revolution, my mother, grandmother, great grandmother and 3 great aunts fled to Yugoslavia. They stayed there for almost 12 months waiting for the American Red Cross to clear their health papers for travel to the US. Initially they did not pass, and their papers were stamped for Sweden (think of what a cute, fair haired Swed I could have been). My grandmother could speak some English and persuaded the Americans to recheck the family. All declared healthy at that point, thanks to a lovely watch used as a bribe, my family boarded an Army cargo plane and headed for NY. Turns out the story is true. Go figure.

Fast forward and my husband and I are in our thirties. My grandmother passes away and my mother comes to live with us for 4 months. During that time there was a lot of fussing and fighting (we’re Hungarian!), but God used this time for His glory and late one night the hubs led her to faith. I think our desire for Hungarians to know and love the Lord started there. See growing up Hungarian you know who Jesus is, but you have no idea how that pertains to you; how much He loves you, and longs for you, His lost child. And I began to realize that although I see Hungarians as pessimistic and difficult at best, God sees them differently. God wants to draw all people to Himself, and if my Hungarian background helps God draw this very difficult people group, I will go. “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw ALL people to myself.” John 12:32

For years Terry and I prayed God would reveal his plans for us locally. My husband’s zeal for travel quickly faded as we had children. We barely even went down the street to the movies, much less to another part of the world. And travel with children? Ha, forgetaboutit. It took a while for God to open our eyes and show us that while all ministry is His – local and global – God has been specifically shaping and preparing us to serve in Hungary. Terry’s background in Technology and Bible teaching is much needed with the men of Hungary, while my language skill will help us bridge the WIDE gap between Hungarians and Americans. When we visited in May 2009, we found a country with buildings full of bullet holes still present from WWII. We found that an RN and a Hungarian Pastor / English tutor have a combined annual income of $12K (USD), while groceries cost about what they run here in the US. Prostitution is legal and an abortion costs $10 USD. We also realized that when Terry graduates from Seminary this Spring, he’ll be graduating with hundreds of others who will go to work locally. Nobody is beating down the door to get into Hungary. In fact believers and non-believers alike wondered what on earth would draw us to such a difficult place. After years of tyranny and communism, we believe God has a plan for Hungary, and we believe we are part of it! Won’t you join us in support and prayer?