AMERICAN in the market

What I like about being a missionary to Ukraine:

1) I have not seen a single snake.
2) Although they have some pretty big spiders, they are not the size of my hand.
3) I can walk around without anyone noticing that I'm a foreigner....that was, until today.

Near our house is a place where you can walk down the sidewalk and buy fruit, meat, vegetables, etc. from different stands. Last time that I bought some zucchini the man could tell that I had an accent when I spoke. He asked me where I was from and I told him...little did I know that he was going to tell EVERYONE.

Today, I did my normal routine of picking up our meats and cheese from the store. Then, as I headed to the produce stands I started thinking about how thankful I was that I did not look different and could move quietly and in peace. Before I even reached the first stand though, I was "greeted" by a drunk man who started babbling on and on. I couldn't really understand what he was saying because he was talking so muffled and fast, but I did hear him say the words husband (don't THINK that he was proposing), dollars, and AMERICAN. He repeated the last one many times loud and clear, the whole time grabbing my arm. During this time I reached the first fruit stand. One lady bought some strawberries, then I bought some, but at a different price. Normally, I would have given them there strawberries back and bought them somewhere else, but that drunk guy was still there harassing me. My only thought was getting me and the girls out of there. He was trying to figure out where I lived...even asked me in English. (I guess "In Ukraine" wasn't a good enough answer.) As soon as he turned away for a minute, I was OUT OF THERE!

Soon, I won't ever be able to hide. EVERYONE in the village already knows that an American family is moving in. Maybe God is using my personal announcer this morning to prepare my heart to live even more in a glass house.