to kolomyya

i've missed kolomyya since the second we left.
the first step onto the train.
the moment we took our eyes off the people we came to love so quickly.
i haven't been able to stop missing it all.

everywhere i look i think i've seen the face of someone i probably won't ever see again.
every familiar voice i hear belongs to someone i once knew, when really it's just the person around the corner.
but it's not them. as much i want to believe it is, as much as i would give anything for it to be, it's not.
they're there and i'm here. all the way across the world.

it's just the way it has to be.

somehow, it only took a week.
one short week and i could call these people family, i could call this place home.
bound by nothing but the Holy Spirit and the power, hope, and promise of the cross, connecting people to each other supernaturally and irrevocably.
but this isn't how we work. to become so close to people only to have to say goodbye forever--it's not what we're made for. 

not what our psyche as humans are capable to handle.
it's too unnatural. too hard. 

but it happened and we must go on with the mission we've been created for.

still, kolomyya will reside as a soft ache in my heart.
not an ache for something broken, but rather for something that is so whole and holy it can only be explained as good.

good in the context of how the dictionary defines the word. not the i-just-have-poor-vocabulary use of it. our modern language has really dimmed the richness of this word.

good (n). - that which is morally right. righteous.

i can't find a better way to describe this ache. it hurts so good. because boy, it was so good. it was all so good.

it's an ache that serves as a reminder that love is powerful. that love and prayer should overflow in and out of us. it should consume us.

and of course, there's the tinge of inevitable sadness. 

sadness that i won't get to hug them anymore. that i won't get to hold hands in prayer again.
but just as i ache with that pain, i gladly accept it. because with the pain comes this ache of goodness, as proof of the righteousness we've been incredibly blessed to have experienced.

i wouldn't trade that up for anything.

and finally, it's an ache that's sole purpose is to remind me that it all meant something. that everything, every second was worth it.

that God moves mountains.

that God changes hearts.

that He is the sovereign, almighty God. 

and that is the God i live to serve. 
-S