There have been few times in my life where I’ve actually found myself speechless. There are the obvious instances like when someone asks me about quantum physics (which doesn’t happen often), or the times when I’m so enthralled by some natural phenomenon that no words come to mind that would adequately express what I’ve just seen. And then there are the moments that have been happening frequently lately when I try to put into words what this past month has meant to me. I feel speechless because, to an extent, no words seem to have the capability to convey the extent of the emotions my heart is experiencing. Some of these emotions are so new to me that I don’t even know what they are yet.
I never wanted to go to Ukraine. When they told us that we would go to Poland if things were unsafe in Ukraine, I hoped for that. This is one of those instances though where I am so glad that the Lord’s plan transcends my understanding of a moment. Because we ended up in Ukraine, and not Poland, and now my whole life has changed.
I noticed immediately something different about the people in the city we stayed, Uzhgorod.
They were kind. Not the “Oh, bless your heart,” kind of kind either. The kind of kind where a young man would give up his seat on the bus without hesitation or even a second thought. The kind of kind that invites you to their home for dinner when you were the one to suggest the get together in the first place. The kind of kind that asks how you are doing, waits for a response with genuine interest, and you leave the conversation feeling a little more known than you were fifteen minutes ago.
They were interested. They wanted to know us, not because we were Americans and not because we were loud and boisterous most of the time, but because that’s just what they do. They actually want to know you. They want to know where you come from, and they want to know where you are going, but they also want to know who you are. And when they would find out that Christ was a huge part of who we were, nothing changed. They wanted to know about that, too. This desire to know others was more profound than simple interest. It was a genuine desire, one that had the ability to transcend barriers.
They love well. The person we worked with for most of the month simply invited us into his life. Our ministry was what he did on a daily basis. He introduced us to his friends and they quickly became our friends as well. I began to see not only how people here loved others, but how they did it so well. The was a selflessness about this love. There was a compassion. There was not an overwhelming expectation of receiving anything in return. They would love others even if they received nothing back.
It didn’t take long for me to understand that this place was certainly different. The kind of different that I had been longing for. The kind of different that would make leaving at the end of the month feel nearly impossible.
It wasn’t impossible though. Leaving wasn’t impossible. It felt hard, like I knew I was leaving my home and people who had become my family. Yes, that was hard. But it wasn’t impossible because a peace transcended the sadness-a peace that one day I would return to this place, and it would still feel like home, and it might even be that someday. When you have peace like that, you have something to hope for, some tangible hope to share with the Lord.
I have a lot of reflecting to do. I’m excited for this. Be patient with me as I process a month that has changed my life. In the meantime, pray for Ukraine, for the country and its special people, and for the Lord to reveal to me the next steps.
