I spent ten days in the Balkans in the beginning of February. It was a great time with some great people. I didn't take any pictures of note with a camera, but I have a couple in my mind. Here's one:
We were in a country neighboring Albania. The guy I was staying with asked if we could stop buy a friend's place for a while. Seems like his friend doesn't have too many friends where he lives, so my buddy likes to stop out to see him as often as he can. We drove out into the hills. The road was kind of paved, but not much. It was a grey, chilly, dark afternoon and it didn't take too long to decide a GPS would be a joke where we were headed. Rickety bridges, hairpin turns, interesting 'houses,' and after a while we were there. This guy lived alone. His two sons were grown and living in another country. His wife had left him to move back to her home country. All of them had returned last summer to see him be baptized in his village. After he did that, the neighbors killed his dog. Lots of family in the area, but not friends now. My buddy would spend a few hours with him talking about Bible stories and what they meant. This guy doesn't read. He's got God and my buddy.
The picture in my mind is this guy alone. Working in the field, splitting firewood, or puttering around the house...alone. How does he get any food for his soul? How does he stay alive?
I know I don't have the whole picture, but that's the piece that's stuck in my mind.