a prayer for these mountain people

On Sunday morning
The church bells ring...

Calling the Orthodox Serb to church...
I watch... no one moves, near or distant.

Five times today at
0543, 1248, 1642, 1952 & 2138
The recording sounds out from the Minaret
The calls for prayer blares from powerful speakers...

All around the square
Cigarettes are lit, coffee cups sipped
Ramadan seemingly means little here.

Orthodoxy and Islam...
What are their impacts?
It seems none for most of these mountain people.
Mountain people, for a thousand years
They exist.
Survive.
They need the news of Jesus and forgiveness and new life.

Today, many men sit in the square,
Inhale bad cigarettes.
Sip coffee.
And talk.
Oh how they talk and talk.

Oh God, that they would hear talk of you.
Oh that there were Gospel filled men who could garner their attention.
Oh God, this field needs workers.
Send your workers oh God.
Break this ground oh God.
Only You.
Only You.

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