The New Year celebration is a huge event in Albania. In the weeks leading up to the New Year, the borders are jammed with Albanians coming home to spend time with their families. Traditional Albanian foods for New Year’s Day resemble America’s Thanksgiving fare. Turkey, bread dressing and lots of vegetables and sweet deserts overload every table.

We spent last New Year’s Eve with a family who, like most Albanian families, spent a lot of money on fireworks. The sky was completely lit up for hours.

During the meal, when the neighbors’ firecrackers started going off near the apartment building, the grandparents became very nervous and yanked the curtains shut, ducking and instructing the others to stay away from the windows. It was as though they were having flashbacks to the anarchy of 1997 that people refer to as “the war.” Maybe it was a combination of memories that still haunt them from other difficult periods of Albania’s history.

The grandfather had been a high-ranking officer in the Communist army in the years before the recent emergence of democracy, which many feel brought on the brief state of lawlessness. He is still very wary of us Americans. He questioned Sean about his past service in the U.S. Air Force, obviously checking to see if he really knew about aircraft. His son later shared with us that his parents are still pretty sure we are with the CIA. For many years, Albania’s government warned the people about foreigners, and the memories are deeply ingrained.

The daughter-in-law showed us the place where, in 1997, a bullet lodged in the third-floor balcony wall, just missing her head as she sat outside with her feverish baby to cool him off. She recalled the constant fear that engulfed their lives. They told us sad stories of many of their family members and neighbors—mothers and fathers who never recovered from the loss of their sons during the senseless violence that terrifying year. The cemetery is full of graves, many of them belonging to children, marked 1997, the year of death.

As we begin a new year, I reflect on what it will take to heal these people of their inner wounds so they won’t be held captive by them forever. The only answer is Jesus. Join our prayer that they will soon know Him.

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