It is hard to explain how challenging, yet fruitful this last week has been, so I suppose I will just have to start from the beginning…
In my last post, I shared that Elizabeth and I were headed back to the village in which we had gone from guests to family in just three days. Our goal was to surprise and spend time with the kids, visit the expedition team, and leave Bali with full hearts. About an hour in, mid-Go Bananas, I collided with a group of boys and hit the ground. Unaware of what had just happened, we got up and laughed it off. Within minutes, the pain began to set in.
I’ll fast forward here and tell you what I did not learn until 5 days, 3 nurses, 2 doctors, and an x-ray later. I had fractured my left foot. The swelling and bruising was immediate and the pain got worse each day. We had nothing to treat the injury until we got back to Tabanan the next day, at which point I could not walk or stand on my own.
After a powerful last morning with our hosts enjoying brunch, music, and prayer together, we piled into two cars with all of our packs (grateful for having packed the morning before) and headed to Denpasar. Of course, we stopped for our favorite ice cream on the way, and eventually got to our hotel. After a difficult goodbye to our Bali family, we settled into our rooms to get some rest because tomorrow is the second of three travel days, during which I will be responsible for the entire squad.
As logistics coordinators, Coleman and I plan something called debrief every so often between months for everyone to come together for a few days of rest, worship, reflection, and community. That being said, we are now responsible for everyone and everything not only for travel days, but for the entire week. Two days prior, we were confident that things had been planned well and were prepared for everything to go off without a hitch.
How foolish!
This Ash Wednesday, during which Catholics fast and reflect on their humanity (ironically), I awoke to a message telling me that Coleman was in the hospital and I was on my own. Trusting that my team and squad will rise to the occasion, we press on! Moments later, we have to walk through the pouring rain for our last team breakfast in Bali, where Elizabeth breaks her glasses. All is well. Remain positive. This is what taxis and superglue are for.
We eventually make it to the airport in one piece, eager to check in, but are informed that we will not be allowed to do so for another two hours. We wait patiently. As I sit, working on my receipts, I read an email that stops me in my tracks. My lovely roommate has sent me news of the sudden death of my friend and classmate. I am at a loss. After the girls attempt to comfort me with questions to understand, prayer to ease the pain, and sweaty hands on my tear-stained shoulders and legs, I hobble to the bathroom to be alone.
Although I was gratefully able to reach my roommate for a few minutes, the airport lady would like to mop so I must get my broken foot and broken will off the floor and relocate, at which point I drop the call and it is time to check in for our flight to Jakarta. I silently let my teammates check my bags and hand me the tickets required to board the plane. I sit through an uncomfortable lunch, swallow more painkillers, change gates, and spend the next 4 hours on the plane reading a book about the terror attacks in Paris and the life left for a Widower and his son.
What resonated most was this passage:
“I thought that if the moon ever disappeared, the sea would retreat so no one would see it crying. I thought winds would stop dancing. That the sun would not want to rise again. Nothing of the kind. The world continues to turn, and meters must be read.”
On a small plane, dumbfounded by reality, I did not know how to grieve. A process that has become all too familiar to me was suddenly very foreign. Nonetheless, traffic persists, planes must be caught, and our work here is not finished. I realize that this novel was potentially poorly timed, albeit a welcome distraction, but the insight actually brought me to a deeper understanding of reality and the purpose behind this mission. In all honesty, I found this encouraging in the days ahead.
Once in Jakarta, my lovely, kind, servant teammates plop me in a wheelchair against my will and roll me to baggage claim where me meet up with another team and travel to the hostel we had visited almost exactly one month prior. After an overwhelming but uplifting welcome from the rest of the squad, I hand out room keys, have a meeting with the SQLs, pay the deposit, and attempt to sleep.
To my relief, when I get up to facilitate airport departure shifts, I see my obviously ill, sunburnt, and worn out logistics partner, Coleman, who greets me with mutual exhaustion and understanding. With few words, we press on through two hours of Indonesian traffic, three rounds of airport security, another gate change, and a phone call from our mentor that our plans for debrief have changed and they will update us when we get there.
Upon arrival in Manila, Philippines, we all finally get through immigration and baggage claim only to cancel our over-priced shuttle, struggle with a broken ATM, and attempt to lead 33 people to our hostel. In due time, everyone arrives safely, as I scramble to adjust to the room changes, meet with our mentor about hotel and transportation changes, and get everyone the information they need for the night. I consult our coach and two teammates (all nurses) about my foot, and am urged to get X-rays as soon as possible. The next day, after a quick trip to a working ATM, lunch meeting, and emotional worship/night session I finally sleep soundly.
Having rested and gotten things settled logistically, Logan and I head to the hospital yet again for tests and x-rays. Hours later, after falling asleep on a bench and eating a bag of lays, we return to the squad for another night session and then pick up our meds. The next day, I feel good (considering the 5 pills I swallowed you can imagine why) and go to little Venice with some friends, where I almost pass out on the cold tile floor. We attend another worship/session night, after which I immediately fall asleep.
On the final day, Coleman and I leave the group to get some work done, pick up a gift for our coaches and mentor, exchange money, break bills, print vouchers, and make a plan for that night. As we head back for afternoon sessions, Coleman loses his phone and we are sent on a wild goose chase via Manila Grab. Eventually, having done all we could do, we go to team skit night and then lead the entire squad to Manila Bay for a surprise dinner cruise that we had planned for them. The evening was a success, we found the phone, and ended up having a relaxing and enjoyable night together as a squad.
The next morning, we checked everyone out of the hostel and loaded them onto a charter bus to head to our new ministry host for the month. We however, would be taking two rest days to organize receipts, emails, SIM cards, evaluations, and debrief ourselves. In mutual exhaustion, we decided watching Forrest Gump and sleeping late was the best use of our time.
I am sitting in a Starbucks right now, writing all of this for two reasons:
1. I have learned the value of rest, flexibility, community, and trust. I’m not sure how anything in the past week could have gone differently, but it took a lot of reflection, prayer, discussion, and time for me to even begin to understand the importance of these challenges. In retrospect, these were major themes throughout my entire first month, first ministry, first team, first travel days, and first debrief.
2. God is always leaps and bounds ahead. I felt the pressure lift when I realized that He was playing the largest role in each challenge and success I have faced thus far. Plan as I will, He will interrupt those plans and it will not always be easy. Had this week not presented so many challenges, I would not have learned as much about myself, my ability to overcome what the world throws at me, the trust I need to have in my community and Lord, and the opportunities for intimacy and growth that lie in doing His work.
Furthermore, I resolve to take time to rest, grieve, and reflect as needed, to see logistics as ministry and let Him into this role, and to press into the sense of self-awareness and community that I have gained in overcoming these challenges with the help of those around me. I cannot help but think that we are being prepared for great things in the 10 months to come. I am overwhelmed by thought of the work that we have been placed here to do and the divine planning that is preparing our hearts, minds, and bodies for the days that lie ahead!
These are the moments when God fulfills his promises. These are the moments in which God takes brokenness, human frailty, and pain to show us that there is more and to prepare us for such things. These are the moments when my hardship, my humanity, and the weight of my burdens are able to be overcome. These are the moments when I remember the promise of the Father, that His plans are greater than those of this world, and He alone brings life, for He is the God that gives and takes away.
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord. Plans to prosper you, and not to harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11
