The Call

Regina Spektor performed this song for the soundtrack of The Chronicles of  Narnia: Prince Caspian and I was OBSESSED with it in middle school. My little  orange iPod nano with my name engraved on the back probably has this song etched into its memory. I’ve found a lot of comfort in it as of late, I feel 13 again.

Last year, my first team Wabi Sabi committed to reading some of the Narnia books together and it was some of the most impactful imagery in understanding the ”secret” parts of God and our spirituality. I encourage you to take up the series whether you are a believer or not, they have so much beauty.

 

When I returned home off the field between my race and this new race I spoke to Ari, one of my squad mates also on this trip and the last one, and she said coming home to America after a year overseas felt like coming back from Narnia. Hard to explain, a dreamy experience that sometimes seems far off in the distance, a beautiful shared experience with a limited amount of people but huge stories of mystical and mysterious creatures with different names and different lives.

 

How do you tell someone about sweet Mr. Tumnus, the fawn with a scarf that led Lucy to safety (initially) and became an important friend?

 

Or Mr. & Mrs. Beaver? they offered refuge and hospitality to the children in a time of need and led them through danger.

 

How about the pools that require certain rings to jump in and out of and each boast a different atmosphere, physical reaction and experience?

 

What about the untamed, but good Lion, Aslan, who sings and creates stars and weeps for the things we weep over?

 

How about the White Witch? How do you tell someone about a mysterious terrifying character that actually has no power of you but seems big and scary and you THINK you’re in mortal danger??

 

Let’s try it out:

 

Mr. Tumnus looked like a 50 something year old man who had claimed Islam as his faith previously. His brother, very curiously and actually named Aslan (Turkish for Lion) was our connection and a pastor of a home church in Genje, Azerbaijan. He refused to listen to the gospel when Aslan and his wife tried over the years to share but as we came to visit he met us and welcomed us with tea and snacks. We shared with him, he didn’t want to hear, he grumbled and say outside to leave the women to talk. 
We returned, I was Lucy. I approached him as a friend, I knew his story was filled with hurt from the Armenian genocide and lost homeland, so I told him I wanted to share my scary stories of numbing, imperfections, personal hurt and lack of safety to be vulnerable. He melted a little. He came alive from being a stone wall. 
He joined us for church for the first time in Aslan’s 15 years of pastoring “just to make sure Supara was treating us well”. He saw me. I saw him. We had mutual respect and understanding. He accepted the gospel.

At that church service he rebuked a man sitting nearby that had beaten his wife the night before. He spoke biblical truth over him without trying, maybe he had been listening all those 15 years? 

He was a guide now. A friend. A brother. He offered a place to meet whenever we returned, if ever it happened.

 

Mr. & Mrs. Beaver looked like a Chinese family for each of my first team members. A dangerous place to pursue sharing faith. We knew someone who pointed us to 6 different sets of Mr. & Mrs. Beaver in a city we will call Z (for security purposes). 6 sets of families, moms and dads and children that took each of us in all over Z and fed us traditional meals, crazy meals(pig brain), bought us mango every night, asked us about our lives, took us into their own lives. We became their family, that had plans for us to do so many things with them. They drove us everywhere as we taught English and showed simple forms of love to students and everyone we met. We were Flagged in this city for teaching English without a visa, even though we were not getting paid and once again our Mr. & Mrs. Beavers has to aid is in “escaping” to a new part of land after the White Witch’s servants caught wind of where we were. They showed us love and hospitality unparalleled to any I had received, and in a closed country. They pleaded for us to stay because they wanted to know more. Our last night before finding refuge in another town, we worshipped openly on a stage and my Mrs. Beaver told me over noodle breakfast “Allie, that song, leaves good feeling in me when I hear it”. Holy Spirit left a mark.

 

Each country we jumped from required different knowledge, different mindsets and held different challenges that were felt universally. Isolation prevalence, depression, tradition, identity. It’s still weird to explain.

 

Of course, the ever famous battle of light vs darkness. Aslan vs White Witch. God and the enemy. We saw the fake fears manifest before us: are we loved? Are we really worthy? We’re we really CALLED to go Overseas? 
Aslan, a roaring lion of truth and life came to our rescue. Time and time again. But it wasn’t always sweet and pretty. It is tears and opening up old figurative wounds in order to let Him heal them properly. 

The song, ”The Call” , reminds of the God I serve. He gave me a feeling of His presence and His hand on my life to come witness to people and witness His goodness. A hope, a thought, a quiet voice and a battle cry, or banner of love over my life. And I never have to say goodbye. 
I was called to ”Narnia“ for a reason, but I will he called to a new place outside of this program soon enough and the next season will start fresh and I’ll wonder how to show people how to get to the wardrobe.

He’s entrusted me with stories that need to be told and experiences worth sharing.

 

I want to honor that!

Here’s to sharing more of the field stories unabashedly.

 

Look for a blog update on Indonesia and Australia soon (: 

or maybe a whole other blog who knows, either way my team is finishing up their time in Indonesia before we head to South Asia on March 4th. 
Pray for safe travels and to understand God more and more each day. 

love you all ??