So, I wouldn’t necessarily consider myself sickly. I get sick with colds and flus like everybody else, but that’s about it.
Commence the World Race, and I’ve probably been sick in some way, shape or form every other week since month 2.
Nothing major.
Pretty much the majority of the time.
Tummy issues abound in foreign lands, but nothing some pepto or cipro can’t handle, and drinking lots of water. In China, we all got cold and flu symptoms. But again, nothing major.
I stepped off the multicab in Malaybalay ready for an afternoon doing house-to-house visits in the rural villages. I was so excited, until I made my way down the sidewalk towards our group and began to feel heaviness set into my legs. Suddenly, from the waist down I had increasing pain – aches and stiffness and heaviness.
My first thought: maybe someone is in need of a healing? I could be feeling their pain.
I was prayed over, and so we walked toward the outskirts to the village.
My pace got slower, my pain got worse. I straggled at the back of the group, and for the life of me all I could do is edify myself by praying in tongues under my breath.
It worked.
We arrived to the first house, where we met two tribal leaders and a woman. I immediately offered prayer for healing and laid hands on one of the old men. It was received.
As I sat through the house visit, it was also revealed that the woman next to me had just come out of the hospital and was still sick. So we prayed for her.
Minutes later, a woman entered the house with a baby who had a fever. More prayer.
I was not feeling any better.
I started feeling worse.
I got woozy, and had to step outside for fresh air.
My entire body was now wracked with pain.
Searing hot-suddenly-sweaty-gut-wrenching-eye-blurring pain!
Slowly I made my way down the street slope and heaved violently. Every limb felt on fire, my head wanted to explode and my stomach was in knots!
Deep breaths and whispered prayers. I was now leaning against a wall to hold myself up and I couldn’t hold back the tears. There I was, in an Islamic village, so desperately wanting to share the Gospel – but rendered useless by the feeling that my body was falling apart.
God…please help. Jesus, touch me and heal me. Please! Help! Help! Help!
But my tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and I was far past any embarrassment as I slid down and hunched into sitting position.
I opened my eyes and in front of me was a dog with a bloody stump for a tail and blood all over his face.
I gagged.
He wagged his bloody stump and I looked away.
A barrage of thoughts inundated my mind:
you’re too weak to be a missionary,
other missionaries get malaria and keep going – but not you.
You could be preaching the Gospel,
but instead you’re sitting here acting like you’re dying.
I guess you weren’t really ready enough…
Guilt. Guilt overwhelmed me. I felt so ashamed. Then cramps seized my guts and I managed to stand up. I looked back toward the house where the rest of my team was still ministering. I felt a thousand miles apart from everyone else.
I heaved again. And waited patiently for someone to come check on me.
I started feeling needles in my lower back, and again I started crying. It was that bad.
Emotionally, I felt like a lost child.
I had no idea where to go or what to do next.
Angela came to find me and see how I was doing. I wanted to be tough. I wanted to act like everything was going to be OK. And then I burst into tears. I shared with her all the thoughts I was having and she called out the lies. She held my hand and prayed over me.
Then she asked me a question that made my gut wrench: what do you want to do?
I cried: “I just want to go home…”
Sobbing ensued, as I felt so defeated.
We got on a little tuk tuk and headed for the main street to catch a multicab back out into the boondocks where our mission camp was located. Time passing meant absolutely nothing to me as I tried to keep my composure and not pass out from the pain.
At some point, being crammed in between sacks of rice, boxes of eggs, a nursing child kicking into my side and about 20 other people in a cab the size of a mid-size sedan – I clenched my teeth and shut my eyes tight while praying that God would send angels to lift this little clunker up off the road and speed it up the mountain!
Finally…
I arrived “home” and had a complete meltdown. There was nothing I could do to keep from crying. I was in so much pain and frustrated.
I laid in a bed feeling absolutely worthless to the Kingdom of God.
My only symptoms were lower back pain, dizziness, severe overall body pain, explosive diarrhea and an intense headache. My fever spiked and I lay in bed motionless and crying like a baby. Angela prayed over me. I took some Tylenol. I drank some water. I kept crying and confessing my guilt. Abby came over and soothed me by affirming that none of what I was saying was true about myself and that God loved me.
I fell asleep for about 18 hours. I know I was being checked in on: being prayed for, having my temperature taken, given more pain relief/fever reducer and water – but I don’t remember much, because I was so out of it. Apparently, I was hallucinating about snakes in my bed and crying. (I laughed when I heard that.)
If my fever wasn’t going to go down in 24 hours, I was going to be taken to the hospital.
My worst nightmare had just come true: I was going to go to the hospital in a foreign country…and having parasites was never on my bucket list either!
[but that's another story]
