“What do you love?” read the last question on the board.

We have been attending language learning classes for three weeks now. Teddy and I are in separate classes, so we can trade off with the girls until they enroll in school. My original instructor just left on paternity leave after two weeks, and a new instructor arrived. She wrote some questions on the board in Croatian, which we had to answer about ourselves in Croatian. The last question on the list was, “What do you love?”

The typical answers were music, dancing, sports or something of the sort. What came to my mind was God. Uh, I cannot say that. That is going to sound super weird, and I don’t know, but I am not saying that. Luke 9:26 immediately came to mind. “If anyone is ashamed of me and my words, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him.” I decided to submit to this prompting, no matter how embarrassing it would be.

When my turn came, I introduced myself and sheepishly said, “Volim Bog.” (I love God.)

“Boga,” my professor corrected, using it in the accusative form. “Volim Boga.” I repeated.

The next week was a stressful one for Teddy and me. We had been waiting three weeks for our stove to be fixed, a water heater installed, and to receive a letter so we could apply for our residency paperwork.

The following Tuesday, it was about 10:30 a.m. when we both suddenly felt an urgency to head to the police department to apply for residency without the letter. With the question booth closing at noon, we knew we had to get going. As we went, it seemed the buses and trams arrived just as we did. We arrived at the police station with 30 minutes to spare and saw the line ahead of us. “Do you think we will make it?” I asked Teddy.

“By God’s grace,” he replied.

Time was ticking when we received an email containing the letter for which we had been waiting. With seven minutes remaining, the officer called out our number. With the information in hand, we approached the officer whose approval meant that we could then proceed to the next step. We went and applied for our personal identification number. Again, everything went smoothly. It was mind-boggling.

That day, I rushed off to classes 30 minutes late. I was exhausted. The lesson for the day was intense, and I could not wrap my mind around it. At the end of class, my instructor stopped me.

“Why did you say you came to Croatia?”

Everyone else in the class had a parent or spouse from Croatia. As tired as I was, I just blurted out our testimony, how God had called us. She was so intrigued.

As the next instructor entered the room, my instructor asked me to please wait; she had more questions. She ended up walking with me all the way home as I answered her questions and shared our entire testimony. She was very interested in how God spoke to me.

“God wants to speak to all of us,” I said. “If we are willing to listen, we will hear Him.” I then asked her a question about Catholicism, the faith of most people here in Croatia.

“Oh, I wouldn’t know. I was raised an atheist. It’s a terrible religion. I am open to what other people say, and what you are saying is beautiful. I love the way you speak to God.”

I told her that she was God’s daughter and that He knew all about her and wanted her to know Him.

“Is there anything I can pray about for you?” I asked.

“I will think about it. I do not want to ask for prayer for just anything,” my instructor replied.

“I will begin by praying for just that,” I said.

“Thank you so much for sharing with me,” she said.

Thrilled and feeling blessed, I replied before we parted ways, “Thank you so much for allowing me to share.”

Please pray for my instructor. I can see that God is calling her to a closer walk with Him. Please also pray for me that He will give me the right words to say and the right time to say them.

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