In Colombia I hit rock bottom.
Well, actually I hit a tile floor.
It was in those moments lying face down on that cold white floor that I thought I might possibly be the worst missionary to ever live. With my mind lost somewhere in the thoughts of wanting to throw up and being certain I was going to pass out, I just cried out to Jesus. It wasn’t an elaborate prayer and it didn’t feel like a prayer full of faith; my prayer was something along the lines of, “Jesus, just help me make it.”
Later when I came to my senses, I realized that if I’m going to go out of this world serving Jesus, I want it to be in a much more glorious way than falling on a tile floor. So, I felt less like a horrible missionary for not being willing to give up my life right there in the middle of Colombia for the sake of a soulless tile floor.
In the couple of days that followed, I constantly placed bags of ice onto my back and groaned at the pain. I visited the Emergency Room and they confirmed that my coccyx bone is broken. After that diagnosis, I was traumatized by the proposed treatment plan that, thank you Lord, we did not have to proceed with. I will spare you those details and save them for the book I will someday write on unbelievable things that only happen to Ashlin Horne.
I spent the hours that followed that ER visit lying in bed and asking God what I was supposed to do. I soon realized that my back was being affected in other ways. I was born with scoliosis and have suffered from disk/nerve issues since I was a kid. Soon my leg began to experience severe numbness and shooting pains. Confronted with constant pain and a choice to be made I prayed for wisdom and consulted doctors, friends, and family.
I sat surrounded by my dirty sleeping bag, snacks from the tienda downstairs in our hostel, and the reality that a 30 hour bus ride from Colombia to Ecuador would likely be unimaginably painful. Each time I shifted my weight, turned over in bed, it felt like someone was stabbing me with multiple knives. I eventually came to realize that I needed to book a plane ticket to the United States quickly and after talking to my co-leaders and leaders back home, I learned that we were all in agreement.
Saying “see you later” to Gap N a month early was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in a very long time. I attempted to give the announcement in my best unemotional, monotone, professional manner. But when they gathered around to pray for me, I quickly broke and realized that I was sitting with family who could so clearly see through my well-rehearsed speech. They immediately saw the physical and emotional pain I was in; they hugged me, laughed with me, cried with me, and confirmed that this was the best decision for my health.
That night I left for the airport with a backpack full of snacks and letters from my squad. I found myself waiting in my wheelchair at the gate laughing hysterically at their notes. Though it was so painful, God gave me such joy when leaving Colombia.
Traveling home was one of the most physically, emotionally, and spiritually painful experiences I could have imagined. The plane ride was excruciating on my coccyx and my back, many tears were shed. But it confirmed for me that the bus ride to Ecuador would have been unbearable. Having a layover in Ft. Lauderdale was a challenge that I never anticipated. Being twenty-five years old, in a wheelchair, completely dependent on another human being to get me where I needed to go, through U.S. customs, and to get my baggage was humbling, frustrating, and an experience that God and I have still yet to really process. I’ve never had to rely on complete strangers before this experience, but through each airport I landed, I realized how much stubbornness, independence, and pride I still possess. Even now, I shake my head in prayer that God will use this to teach me to be more like Him.
I am home with my parents. I am resting and have multiple doctors appointments set up. I am confident that God has me in His hands and is going to do something fruitful in this healing process, whatever that looks like. None of this is how I imagined, planned, or would have hoped. I miss Gap N tremendously. Nevertheless, my time with them continues as I follow their stories from this corner of the universe and hope to encourage them as they continue on their journey. I am thankful to serve a God whose plans are better than mine and who was not at all surprised by this event. I am thankful to be here, to be able to walk (though it looks like hobbling at the moment), and to have co-leaders and a squad who supported me and served me in incredible ways on the field. I am also grateful for two incredible parents who helped me get home to the states, are taking care of me, and getting me the treatment necessary for recovery! I am blessed and praying for healing, whatever form God chooses to use–whether that’s supernatural or through medicine.
I ask for your prayers for healing and for Gap N as they continue on to Ecuador!
Thank you all for your prayers and support thus far. I love you all so much.
