This is a creative writing sort of thing that I wrote this month. Vietnam has been challenging, but I’ve made it through, and I’m ready to take on the rest of Asia. This post is dedicated to the U Squad – my brothers and sisters who provide unconditional support and love no matter what.
“Lanterns and Keys”
Once again I did myself stumbling and staggering through the valley, wounded and fatigued. I’m not sure how I got here – one wrong turn, one misstep, and I’m in the all-to-familiar position of trekking through darkness.
Again.
Heavy ropes and chains hold me down, drag on the ground behind me and around me as I trudge forward. They cut into my limbs and rub my skin raw. With every step comes pain.
Still in darkness, I have no idea where I’m going, or why I’m going there in the first place. The chains are too heavy. The pain is too great.
I collapse, feel my broken body sink into the ground below. It wouldn’t be the worst thing – I think – to just stay here. After all, how do I know that what’s ahead is any better? I feel the cool earth against my skin, the chains and ropes weighing me down. It’s hardly pleasant, but strangely comforting. Why don’t I just stay here forever?
…I think I will…
“No.”
A voice from above disagrees.
Slowly I raise my head. “Why not?”
The voice above, one I know enough to instantly recognize, responds.
“I didn’t bring you here so you could stay. Get up.”
“How?”
This time there is no audible answer, but an answer is given all the same. In the darkness I see shadows, silhouettes approaching.
I am not nearly as alone as I thought I was.
The figures move closers and with them comes light – a light I’ve practically forgotten since entering the valley. My eyes adjust to the dazzling brightness and I can see the figures more clearly now. Some carry lanterns. Others hold keys.
They unshackle me – cut free some of the ropes and unlock the chains they can. And the ones they cannot remove, they help me carry. The lanterns light our path as we move forward as one unit. Countless times I lose my footing, but they wait patiently for me. As we continue, some of the ropes begin to fray. The chains begin to weaken. And at last, at last, I see light. Not from the lanterns, but sunlight streaming through the end of the valley. Faithfully, steadily, we press on.
Finally, light. Glorious light. The last remnants of the chains lie broken around my feet. Now that the path ahead is clear, what’s next? I am about to find out.
A messenger stands at the edge of the valley and beckons me closer. I obey.
“Return to the valley.”
My heart drops into my stomach as my body gives an involuntary tremor. “Go back?” This is the last thing I want.
The messenger nods, then hands me a lantern and a key. “Return to the valley.”
Now I know what must be done. I join the ranks of those who bring light and unshackle the chains. I will return to the valley, but I will not go unarmed. I will go to bring others out with me.
