Mangled metal.

The last two days (Okay, pretty much upon arrival in Antigua, Guatemala) our squad has been on a “screen fast”. No Facebook. No Skype. No net; no blogging. Our squad leaders (people who have gone on the race before who are here training and assisting us) asked that we focus on getting to know our new surroundings and getting adjusted to this new, crazy lifestyle we will be living. 

Two days of media fasting has been refreshing, though I’ve been desperately waiting to tell of all that’s happened! So here’s a snapshot of day one: 

Sunday we arrive in Guatemala City, Guatemala. I can’t contain my excitement to be in a new country once again. I think once you get the travel bug, it’s hard to get rid of! Customs are surprisingly easy to get through. Hardly a line, and no questions. Stamp. Welcome to Guatemala! I’m practically skipping over to the baggage area. One by one, the bags appear. Big, black, body-bag-esqe bag after the other. Thinking my rain cover would be sufficient, I watch in horror as my bag is pulled off the conveyer belt. Mangled metal mess. My moment of joy destroyed. Country #1. Month#1 . *DAY*  ONE?! My pack?! Ruined?! WHAT?!  I look at the top of the pack, and see that the zipper on the top is completely broken too. And to think, I gave my dad a had time about how many safety pins he threw in my pack… looks like those will come in handy after all, without a zipper. I notice that my sleeping pad had come off the outside of the pack and was making a trip around the conveyor belt solo. Doing a quick survey,  I find that my tent which was also strapped to the outside, had made it okay.

Everyone around me is radiating with that joy that I had just moments before. I wanted to stop and ask one of the airline people if they would do something about it. I felt that I was entitled for them to do something about it… after all, how could they have such carelessness?  Wasn’t there *something* that could be done? No time though, our group had to book it to the vans that were waiting outside to take us to our next destination about an hour away, Antigua. 15 people per van, our packs were all strapped to the top. I got wrapped up in the situation, thinking to myself, “if any pack falls of the top, it will be mine”. 

I’m was so excited to see the other half of my team who had gone a couple of days before, and now all I could think about was my darn pack. 

Teammates comfort me. “Pappy” our father for the trip who meets us at the beginning of every country, wraps his big arms around me and comforts me. (As a side note, it’s amazing the love that he and his wife “Mama C” have for this group of racers they hardly even know! What an amazing support system behind us!) 

      A little later in the day, one of the guys on my squad, with strength like the Hulk, bent the metal back into shape. My pack is practically good as new.  (Thanks again, Brooks! )

That lesson that was drilled into our heads  at training camp, about surrendering all your expectations and feelings of entitlement reared its head on day one, and undoubtedly will come up over, and over again throughout this journey. 

Proverbs 3:11-12

“My son, do not despise the Lord’s discipline, and do not resent his rebuke, because the Lord disciplines those he loves, as a father the son he delights in.”