You know you’re in Greece when you accidentally drop a glass cup on the floor and everyone yells Opa when it shatters. Which was exactly the case last night when I met up with some coworkers for dinner after a long flight into Thessaloniki, Greece.

After 18 hours of travel, our weary A21 USA team met up with our global team for feta, feta, and more items with feta sprinkled on top. [Oh Greeks, your love for cheese astounds me!] Over good food and great conversation we caught up on all that has happened in the past twelve months.

As I ran along the shore this morning, I couldn’t help but remember that as surely as the sun rises, there is hope of new beginnings. Everyday is a new chance to start again. For the girls in our shelters who have endured sexual slavery, there is a chance for new beginning. For us who are in bondage to sin or addiction, there is a chance for a new beginning. For those who are daily waging a battle against wars bigger than their courage, there is a chance for a new beginning.

Lamentations 3:22-24 says, The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.”

Each year we try to make it a point to connect, realign vision, and share what is going on in each country we are involved with. Today at our team meeting in a cramped office downtown, we prayed for each other, over each other, and with each other in Dutch, English, Greek, and French. Talk about speaking in tongues! 😉 I’m almost positive if anyone heard us they would’ve thought we were drunk or an office fully of crazies!

Following the team meeting in our office full of crazies, we traveled to our shelter that was filled with—you guessed it—more crazies! We arrived at our shelter in Greece to be warmly greeted by smiling faces. Using hand signals and broken bits of different languages, we all got to tour A21’s newest shelter with a few of our survivors. It was awesome! They proudly showed us their new rooms and fancy light fixtures and backyard garden… the simple yet meaningful things I take for granted.

But the best part of the day was when one girl started a dance party in the middle of the living room. A CD player blared music and before anyone could sneak away, we all started dancing like we knew what we were doing. I laughed at one of our interns as she fiercely pumped her hands and hips wildly as our shelter girls mimicked her moves.

For a moment I thought about their past dreams, their past lives, their past nightmares. For a moment I remembered the pain and loss they have endured, the broken dreams shattered in the hands of an abuser. But the music continued as their hands waved in the air and their laughter filled the room. In that moment they were free, in that moment they were happy. In each step, in each dance move, they were free. Because nothing says freedom more than dancing like you can.

“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.”