How does this happen? It was a trip. I have only ever spent something close to a month there throughout the course of 3 years, but I cannot get it off my mind. I miss it so much, especially tonight. Looking at pictures is especially painful. Its a reminder that I am not there, but their life goes on. It is a reminder that I may never return. It is a stab in the heart to think that I won't get to experience that culture, and those people ever again. Nobody misses a ski retreat like this. Nobody misses a Tribal Challenge like this. Nobody misses a family vacation like this. Nobody misses a concert or a party like this. Nobody misses Young Life camp like this. Nobody misses a Small Group like this. This trip was more than a good time in Kosova, it was a life changing time. It was a heart molding time. It was a view shaping time. It was a love building time. It was an unforgettable experience. Anyone who has not been there will not understand, no matter how hard they try. I am not holding that against anyone, it is simply the truth. Remembering the exact moment when a certain picture was taken, and remembering how I felt at that moment... it kills me. There was a different feeling to the whole trip. My skin felt different. The air felt different. My moods were different. The ground felt different. The people felt different. I got to share the miracle of the love of Christ with people who may never hear it from anyone else! I got to love people through the love of Christ that may never experience that sort of love ever again! I got to love them, but then leave them. I was torn to shreds leaving them. I cried when we left the house, I cried when we got to the airport, I cried from the time we got in line at the airport till we went through customs. I love those people, I love that country. Not the shallow sort of earthly love that people throw around so easily. The sort of love that comes from nowhere else but God.
If you understand where I'm going with this whole rant, let me know, because I'm not sure myself. Obviously there is something about Kosova that just cannot be explained in words. I love Kosova and its people with a love that could come from none other than the holy, mighty, perfect love of the Lord Jesus Christ! Its hard to love like that and be so far away.
If you understand where I'm going with this whole rant, let me know, because I'm not sure myself. Obviously there is something about Kosova that just cannot be explained in words. I love Kosova and its people with a love that could come from none other than the holy, mighty, perfect love of the Lord Jesus Christ! Its hard to love like that and be so far away.
I miss Kosova.
Kosova...what a beautiful name. I know where you are going with the rant: Whenever the word 'Kosova' comes out of your mouth something happens. A feeling of longing. A feeling of 'oh how I must be with those people again!' A feeling of 'remind me why we come back again??'
ReplyDeleteI didn't go twice, but I still remember every detail of the first trip...and believe me, I feel it.