…We arrive, alive in Sarajevo

Well folks, not much has changed since I was last here.  Same buildings, same stores, same people, same smells. It’s weird. It’s like Bosnia got left behind when the world made the moving forward club. The people know it, they dress nicer than any Chicagoan as they walk down the cobbled streets past bombed out buildings. Coke is still  outrageously popular, as are the VW bugs and other little nondescript cars. 

God has done so much to prepare us for right now, we’ve already seen  Him working…I can’t wait to meet the Bosnian Christians this morning as we attend the church at the army camp here.  It gets a little oppressive being surrounded by muslims (obvious because of thier head coverings, not to mention the men in dressses).  There’s so much muslim evangelism going on too, from the daily call to prayer yelled from the high spire of a mosque to the little boothes along the street full of free literature.   I just want to show God to them…not as easy as it is in America. 

Well I’m off to chug down some Turkish coffee before heading out for the day, thanks for reading, please keep us in your prayers.


7 thoughts on “…We arrive, alive in Sarajevo

  1. Meredith,
    I’m glad you guys made it to Sarajevo! I’m STILL praying for you too. I miss you a lot. I hope Delaney’s ankle is getting better. Tell her and your mom HI and I miss them too.

    1. By now I know this city like the back of my hand. I’m in love with the extremely narrow streets, tiny stick shift cars, people walking everywhere…it’s so wierd, I recognize everything like it’s out of a dream.

      1. You like the stick shift cars because your parents have a car that is a stick shift!

  2. Don’t forget’s a rock!
    Or a bullit.
    Or a rocket launcher, but it’ll be complicated to convince the America-people that it’s not really a rocket launcher. Golly if you get one of them, don’t mention my name, keep it.

    1. Believe it or not, I found you rocks in New York, Istanbul and of course, Sarajevo. Hopefully customs doesn’t pull me out for smuggling piles of rocks in my backpack.

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