“I remember so well putting you, Larry, and little Anne Coleman on the East-bound train to Poland—one way!”
My friend spoke of a scene on a Viennese train platform one warm June evening in 1977 when the three of us (my husband, daughter, and I) waved goodbye to all we knew and most of what we held dear.
Suddenly, without warning, my friend’s words awakened the memories in my heart. As I gazed out the window of my study, I reflected.
One-way train? It is true; I will never come all the way back.
Reflections on the One-Way Train
• My destination on the One-Way Train took me to live behind the Iron Curtain. The call from God and the stewardship of this assignment offered one of life’s most sacred privileges. During our sojourn, I had the unimaginable opportunity to sit in the audience and watch the amazing works of God play out before my eyes. Sometimes He involved me as a stagehand, and sometimes He wrote me into the script. Other times, I observed from backstage. Always, He was the Director, Producer, and Choreographer. Reverently, we witnessed miracles that prophets of old longed to see.
• My ticket on the One-Way Train allowed me to live among a nation and her people, to feel her struggles, and to experience her courage. We applauded her as she accepted her painful history and moved courageously into a dramatic future.
• My journey of years on the One-Way Train brought about friendships which became nearly as dear to me as life itself. Recently, some of us gathered for a reunion, and the presence of the Holy Spirit in our midst was breathtaking.
We call ourselves the Cepelia Society: Candice, Cheri, Danka, Gwen, Julie, Karey, Kasia, Mary Kaye, Ruthie, and me. The name “Cepelia” originates from the famous Cepelia folk art shops in the land where our journey began.
We are not a clique, but we are close. We are not alike, but we like to be together. We are stubborn, strong-willed, opinionated, and bossy. And, we are fiercely loyal. Our uncommon, common history keeps us tenaciously committed and tightly connected.
Uncommon, common history
We are missionary women who lived covertly behind the Iron Curtain in communist-controlled Poland. Brought together by God’s common calling, we faced the daunting challenge of merging lives and moving forward.
Under other circumstances, we might not have become friends. We never were, and never will be, a homogeneous group. Our personalities are as varied as our zip codes; our preferences are as different as our backgrounds, and our opinions are as strong as horseradish.
Yet, because we went “to war” together, we are bonded for life. Since God gave us each other, our relationships stand as near sacred. Not one of us could have survived alone, and we are quick to tell you that.
Uncommon community
Clandestine camaraderie created inspiring connections. Our manifesto emerged from Proverbs 27:17: “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” Learning to speak Polish and potty training our rambunctious toddlers had to co-exist, and so did we. We learned to give—to give grace and to give space. We learned to forgive; we learned to laugh. Eventually, we learned to love each other because of our overarching love for Him (1 John 4:19).
We shared life on multiple levels: holidays, happy days, and hard days. Somehow, we survived hurtful days. We shared baby showers, birthdays, babysitting, and books. Most of all, we shared Jesus. Our commitment to the Gospel called us; our commitment to the Gospel kept us.
We managed to make life work because we determined to work together. We learned to learn from each other. Humility helped us realize how to benefit from our different God-given strengths and show grace for our glaring human weaknesses. Our ongoing challenge persisted—focus on fighting the enemy of our souls, not on fixing each other.
Uncommon mission
Our mission was greater than any of our disagreements. It was never about us; it was always about Him. We stood on this common ground and learned to let differences make us stronger.
The holy war amid the Cold War remained: Us against him (the devil) Us against them (the communist authorities) Never us against each other That. Luxury. Did. Not. Exist.
Sadly, missionaries recite tragic stories of life among other missionaries. By His grace, God spared us. Our desperate need for each other taught this group of women to collectively lean desperately into Him. After years of togetherness, we emerged from the foxhole, clinging first to Him and clinging fast to each other, for life.
Uncommon commitment
Since those days, God has taken us down different paths. But every so often, our paths converge for a reunion. The Berlin Wall came down historically, and the walls come down relationally when we gather. “How are you doing?” gets a real answer, not a sanitized one. “How can we pray for you?” prompts praying here and now, with Spirit-led urgency and passionate fervency. “Carry each other’s burdens” means just that, carrying each other’s burdens (Galatians 6:2).
Much too soon, having relived our sacred past, retold our dramatic stories, revived our precious memories, and consumed gallons of strong coffee and liters of black tea in Polish Bolesławiec mugs, our reunion ended.
But our uncommon, common history will always bring us back together, for with each other we find a part of ourselves the rest of the world does not understand.
“‘Truly I tell you,’ Jesus replied, ‘no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age: homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields—along with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life’” (Mark 10:29-30).
“If you want to be a part of a group that bonds like cement, take on a really demanding task that’s deeply meaningful. All of you will remember it for the rest of your lives.” - Heath
