It was the kind of day that made me wonder how God would fulfill His word in Romans 8:28 and work everything out. “This must be some kind of character-building thing I’ll appreciate later,” I guessed.

It all began at 5 a.m. with a three-hour bus ride to the capitol for some early appointments. I don’t know if it’s from the poor road conditions or something else, but many Albanians tend to get motion sickness. The bus attendant sometimes passes out plastic bags at the beginning of the journey, but unfortunately ours did not that morning. Our family hasn’t needed one yet, but a few people sitting near us on that trip could certainly have used bags. It’s difficult to handle that odor so early in the morning.

The appointments fell through, which was a bitter pill for a time-oriented westerner like me to swallow. Most of the day was wasted, or so it seemed, but it could have been worse.

While shorter rides on the city bus don’t seem to make people vomit, they have their own challenges. Frequently, we stand packed so tightly that it is impossible to fall down when the bus suddenly stops or swerves. That day, Brenda couldn’t squeeze onto the bus with the rest of us, so she ran back and got on at the back door. After traveling for a while, I motioned for her to get off at the next stop, but the bus attendant had not been able to make it back to collect her fare. To make a long story short, Brenda had to jump off a moving bus. Everything was okay, though. She paid the fare and landed on her feet!

There were many other difficulties that day. As we entered a building, I took off my sunglasses and reached for my eyeglasses. They were gone. I backtracked everywhere I had been in the city that day, but to no avail. Now it looked as if the entire day was wasted and worse. We were sweltering in the 109º heat and very tired, and the last bus home didn’t have air conditioning or windows that opened. It figured.

On the way home, Brenda felt sick and needed to get off the bus. The driver let us off at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. But what now? There was no way for us to get home and no nearby hotels. I called my Albanian friend, Julian. He is a doctor and was in surgery but assured me that he would take care of everything.
As we waited, the weather quickly changed. Soon, hail began to fall! How fitting. We ran into the gas station for shelter. A few hours later, I saw Julian’s car pull up. The driver was my friend, Arben. He had taken four hours away from work to come and rescue us. I tried to pay him for his time and fuel, but he refused. Arben looked me in the eye and said simply, “It’s better to have a friend than to have a farm.” There was a moment of silence as I pondered this statement, then he asked me if I understood.

“Yes, I think so,” I answered. “When you have a farm, you are self-reliant. You provide for your own needs. But when you are in trouble and can’t help yourself, a friend will help you.”

“Yes,” he nodded, “that’s right.” In that moment, the trials of the day faded away. It had been more than worth it to know the depth of friendship we’d developed in the months we have been here. These two men have become like brothers to me. I long to introduce them to my closest Friend, which is the best gift I could ever give. May they receive Him as warmly as they have received me.

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