yes, i am learning to sing hallelujah

“I remember the days of old;
I meditate on all you have done;
I ponder the works of your hands.”
-Psalm 143: 5-6

I’ve spent the past 24 hours still soaking everything in. My heart is both shaking and still in the glory of Christ. There is such a overwhelmed bliss of experiencing, followed by a smooth and subtle peace of knowing. Only yesterday we were drinking coffee way too hot for our tongues and wondering if today would ever come. I’m not sure it has hit that it’s over. Memories and denial are both fight the sad feelings off.

Last year, I couldn’t cope with reality and not being back from Poland. I felt like the Pevensie kids in Narnia having to come back after years of fighting battles and creating a Kingdom. All they wanted was to come back. But after actually going back, they realize why they were there in the first place.

“You must begin to come close to your own world now.”
“It isn’t Narnia, you know,” sobbed Lucy. “It’s you. We shan’t meet you there. And how can we live, never meeting you?”
“But you shall meet me, dear one,” said Aslan.
“Are — are you there too, Sir?” said Edmund.
I am,” said Aslan. “But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there.

Aslan brought them to Narnia not just to fight battles, but so that they would know him better going home. God brought me to Poland to rock me with the glory of Christ and to know more of who Christ is when I returned. I know that now and it’s made my heart whole both there and here. All these things I loved about Poland were all good things from Christ, the same Christ who is with me always. So this time, I’m not going to spend a second on focusing what I lost in leaving. I must focus on what I gained while there.

Gain – a word that’s been on my tongue every sleepless night and tired day. Every time happiness and grief find their way inside of me. Every single second I have tried to sink into the past. On countless times when I all I wanted to do was fly away back there, I have remembered. I remember all we gained on hills of endless beauty, docks with the water below our feet, and everyday in the musty Church. Each day of carrying kids on our back and hearing chants over and over were all gain.

Coming back, I’m changed. And now? We’ll pull every moment and feeling back into view so strongly that we’ll smell the wildflowers again. We’ll remember the colorful Chicago lights that first happy day, sleeping under the stars in a hammock, late night beach worship, lanterns floating away in the sky, bonding with girl talks and nutella, playing telephone with multiple languages, laughing at random times for no apparent reason, lots of bread and dumplings, worshiping several times a day, never being able to sing Wagon Wheel all the way through, the new friends and the old ones we got to meet again, and everything else that keeps coming back. These feelings brought us far and we don’t want to forget why.

I’m full to the brim and yes, I am learning to sing Hallelujah like never before.  Until the day when our voice may reunite in song and recall stories once more: I shall just hold on to my passport of a heart, which is stamped with the seal of a journey there and back again.


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