Here in Armenia, Circle Makers has found ourselves in a small little town in the mountains. We are quite literally in the middle of nowhere. But we’re staying at a pretty sick campsite. Here we have been able to meet people from all over the world in all stages and seasons of life. And as much as I have loved meeting these people, by far my favorite person we have met since being here, hasn’t stayed on this campsite. She actually lives in an even smaller village an hour’s walk away up the mountain even more.
Last Wednesday, my team and I made our way up the mountain. We wanted to see what was up there and who we would get to meet. We walked up, said hello to a couple of people, and just spent time praying over the area and surrounding villages. We spent about an hour and a half walking around, stopping every now and then to say hi and try to talk to people. We pass by this house where this older woman and a young boy are sitting outside, we wave, and the woman starts yelling at us to enter her courtyard (all in Armenian). We look at each other and just shrug our shoulders and smile as we walk into her courtyard. She has us sit down on couches and chairs that are out there and insists we have coffee.
She begins to bring out different fruits (this is where I learned I don’t like mulberries) and eventually she brings out coffee. As she is showing us the kindest welcoming, a young girl comes out and she does not want to talk to us whatsoever (she slowly warms up to us as we continue to try and talk to her, even giving her an origami heart). The grandma eventually sits down and through a four-way communication, we are able to have a conversation. Barret sits with Google translate next to the grandson, who will read in Armenian what we said, then he types out his grandma’s response which Barret then reads aloud the English translation to the rest of the group. We learned a little bit about them and that the grandma believes in God. In fact, she took a solid five minutes to loudly tell us how to say “Jesus Christ” in Armenian. “Hisus K’ristos!” We would repeat it over and over and she didn’t stop until at least one of us said it correctly. We got to pray with her, thanking God for bringing this woman of God into our path. This was the first visit to Grandma’s house.
Karlie helping Grandma pour coffee
A couple of days later, we made the sweaty hike back up, this time bringing homemade chocolate chip cookies. She laughingly yelled at us because she had told us not to bring anything, but once she tried one, her face lit up. The only one of her grandkid’s home was her 12-year old granddaughter, who still isn’t incredibly happy to see us but again warms up and eventually eats one of our cookies. They brought out coffee for us again and we ate cookies and talked some more. We learned a little bit more about her life and her grandkids. I brought my ukulele and we asked if we could sing a song with her. She said (and these are the exact words via Google translate), “if it’s a song about God, then sing it!” So we sat and worshipped together through a couple of different songs. Towards the end of us worshipping, Karlie started messaging back and forth with her. Through that, we come to find out that her granddaughter, the one sitting with us, has a nerve disorder and often is sick and doesn’t feel well. We ask if we can pray for her and of course, Grandma says yes. So we sit and we begin to pray for healing over our young friend. This was the second visit to Grandma’s house.
Playing my ukulele while Barret scrolled so I could read the chords
Then just yesterday, we made our walk up the mountain one last time, this time in the heat of the afternoon. We make it to Grandma’s house and this time her son is there. A huge spread is brought out: homemade drinks, milk, coffee, bread, honey, cheese, and more cookies. We have a FEAST. We ask how her granddaughter is, and apparently there has been a change and that she is a lot better. She was actually at her brother and sister-in-law’s house for a few days. We spent our afternoon praising God and feasting together one last time. We asked if we could take a picture with her before we left and she ripped off her bandana, messed with her hair and she was ready. We got to take a picture with her. She gave us all hugs and a forehead kiss. And off we went, waving goodbye until we were no longer in sight. That was our third and final visit with Grandma.
Us with Grandma and her son
From just those three visits, I learned a lot about encouragement within the body. We were able to encourage Grandma by just being with her, praying with her, and worshipping with her. And she was able to encourage us by joyously welcoming us, showing hospitality, and showing love for God in such a passionate way. All around it was so so sweet. I love my Armenian Grandma and the love she has for the Lord.
Our time in Armenia is headed to an end. We head to some really cool countries next! However, because of the nature of the ministries we will be working with and then the view of Christianity in these countries, my blog will be password protected. If you want to access my (or any of my squadmates), please shoot me a message! Pray for my squad and I as we enter countries where Christianity isn’t accepted. Pray for open hearts of those we encounter. And pray for protection over the ministries there! Excited to see what the Lord has in store!
