When we stepped off the plane in Poznan, a few things struck me. First of all, the hundred plus people waiting at baggage claim were nearly silent. Jack Stockdale, the pastor here, wasn’t joking when he said that the Polish are a very quiet people. Secondly, I could see in color.
In the days leading up to our time in Poland, many members of our group were trepidatious about the time we would spend here. We didn’t really have a precise game plan, and none of us had ever been to Poland before. We simply knew that we would serve God here in whatever way He enabled us to do so. In order to combat some of our anxiety, we’d began joking about some of the things we expected to find in Poland. First, we thought everything would be in black and white, that they only people we’d find there would be the elderly or young children, and despite the fact that it’s July, we expected cold and blustery snow storms. But, as I said, when I stepped off the plane, everything was in color.
The first couple hours here were hard for me. It’s one thing to be in Italy, where at least in some ways the language looks or sounds like English. Although I don’t speak a lick of any foreign language, I could usually look at the signs around me and figure out what was going on. The Polish language is a different story all together. For example, the label on the water bottle sitting in front of me reads “Zywiec Zdroj.” I could not in a million years guess what that says. So, as we left the airport and traveled to our hotel, I was in a state of mental disarray. I was tired from traveling, and not completely ready to acclimate to another country.
We checked into our hotel room, which although only billed as a two star hotel, was essentially the lap of luxury after the hostel we stayed in while in Rome. That encouraged me. Then we got on the bus to go to the Stockdale’s house. Their house is in a neighborhood of Poznan called Grunwald, it’s as close to suburbia as a European city can get. Even by American standards their house is huge. We walked into the front gate and around to their back yard. Their backyard. Inside the house Joan Stockdale was preparing as food for the cook out we were about to have. The girls set to work in the kitchen and the boys went outside to deal with the grill. Despite the fact that we were in Poland, we were about to have a good old-fashioned American BBQ. Shortly after we finished up in the kitchen, one of the Stockdale children let their dog Duke, a Golden Retriever out of his room. He went tearing through the living room and out into the backyard, excited to greet all thirty of his new friends in his house. I ran after him, like a little child. I grew up with Golden Retrievers, and his presence, as silly as it may sound, was the icing on the cake to make me feel at home and comfortable in such a strange place.
After eating, Jack explained to us our game plan for the next couple of days while we’re here. He reiterated the spiritual darkness and coldness that much of the Polish people find themselves in. Poland has been the stomping ground for warring nations for nearly all of its existence. The Catholic Church has been the one thing that has held Poland together. In the six years that the Stockdales have been in Poland, only a handful of people have come into a saving relationship with Jesus. The church here is still meeting in the Stockdale’s home, and is smaller than most small groups in other churches. Still, the Stockdales persevere.
Jack shared 1 Corinthians 3:6, and explained that his family’s mission here, and ours as well, was to plant seeds and water the soil. He told us that often in Christian ministry, the goal is to lead people across the line fro m death to life, and that seems like the only goal. If someone doesn’t get saved, often as Christians, we feel that we’ve failed. He said that here in Poland, the goal is different. Obviously the ultimate purpose is to lead people from death to life, but the path that leads people to cross that line is a long and winding road. Our goal, while we’re here, is just to draw people closer to that line of salvation, because most Polish people are so distant from any true understand of God.
With that thought in mind, the next morning we prepared ourselves for battle in a completely different war zone than any we’d been in before. We spent a lot of time in prayer and the Word together, encouraging and admonishing each other. If nothing else, our trip and time in Poland, will produce friendships that are unshakable and firmly planted in the love of Christ.
We drove to another town here in Poland, where were able to obtain a permit to perform, and where there is a small Baptist church that we can point people towards. The town square was nothing short of magical, small children ran around chasing pigeons, old women leaned out their windows watching the Americans set up their stage, and more teenagers than I expected to see gathered to see what was going on.
I thought that starting conversations with people was difficult in Italy, but here in Poland, it’s near impossible. I have never felt more awkwardness in my life than aimlessly approaching as group of young Polish girls in an attempt to build a relationship, but knowing there is very little for us to talk about, and having been warned that steering the conversation toward spiritual topics is probably not the best idea here in Poland. And so, I spent much of my day in prayer with the other folks on our team who are not musicians.
When the band started to play, a large crowd had drawn near, mostly of teenagers and young adults. Then the sound system fell apart. I don’t know much about the technical aspect of music, so I don’t know precisely what happened, but essentially, Steele was not able to play his guitar through the amp provided to him. For a brief moment, panic and fear coursed through the veins of our team. Those of us in the crowd, huddled together to pray, and after a few moments of technical difficultly Steele made the decision to continue to play, just with out his amp.
Then the rain came. It didn’t rain hard, but just enough to shake us up. It had rained briefly before we set up the stage, and we’d prayed that God would hold off until after the performance. But the drops falling from the sky indicated that God had a different plan for us. Because of the rain, Steele cut his set short and began to share the gospel. Through the mouth of a translator the good news of God’s grace and mercy rang through the city square. It was an odd moment. The first instance that Steele mentioned to the name of God, all conversation in the square stopped. Then it seemed that the line was drawn in the sand as some people jeered, laughing among there friends at the words Steele was sharing, while others locked in, intently listened to a message they probably had never heard before in their lives.
As the show came to a close, people bunched into groups and out team tried our best to engage with some of the people who decided to stick around. Still unable to have a real conversation with anyone, I stuck with my mantra of prayer for the evening, gathering with other believer to support our friends who were in conversation with the Polish people. That night, Kelsea was able to clearly share the gospel with two young Catholic girls, as the Stockdale’s youngest daughter, Lynne translated. Steele was surrounded by a group of giggling girls almost instantly after getting off stage. As his conversation progressed, he too was able to share the gospel with those girls, and two of them prayed to accept Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior. The one thing that we were told not to expect to see did indeed happen!
God is certainly a god of miracles, and it is a miracle every single time that a person crosses that line from death to life, but for two young Polish girls to make that decision and to clearly understand the choice that they made, is a miracle beyond description.
I’m sorry for the length of this blog, but I know that even if I continued to write, I could not accurately express our experience here in Poznan. Just know this: God is good, and he is working here in ways that are beyond imagination. Please keep praying. We only have a few short days left on our trip, but I believe with all of my heart that the labor and toil, the prayers and the sacrifice that we on the team, and those of you supporting us have given will in fact impact history and eternity in a tangible way.
Kristen L.
