The one thing I dislike even more than when my socks get wet in the rain is crying in public. Since being on the race I have found myself crying all the time…everywhere. I’ve become a crier.
I cried the first night of launch with my mom in our hotel room: realizing it would be the last time she would kiss me goodnight for a long time.
I cried the morning of the second day when my mom greeted me with a kiss and Starbucks.
I cried the second night of launch and wondered what in the world I had gotten myself into.
I didn’t stop crying the third day of launch. That morning I cried thinking about leaving my mom. That afternoon I cried while sitting in her lap being held. Later that afternoon, I cried in the arms of my teammates. You best bet that, that evening I sobbed in the shower.
The fourth day I cried during quiet time with the Lord wondering again, “why in the world did I do this to myself.”
I also cried that night in bed with my friend Rachel as she just listened and wiped my tears.
On the plane to Ecuador I cried lying to myself about how nothing in me could possibly be ready for the race.
On the bus from the airport to our house, at 2 am I cried finding out that I would be doing ministry the next day.
Once back at our house I really cried. I mean actual mental breakdown cried. It took two of my squadmates holding me to calm down that one.
In the middle of the first night I cried because I thought my body was eating me from the inside out.
Later that night I cried cradling the toilet in between leaning up to vomit.
On Thursday I cried because I realized that God was going to shatter ALL of my expectations.
On Friday, something changed. I cried because my team leader handled me a scraper and a project. While scraping the paint off of the wall surrounding the ministry compound I’m currently working at, I began to cry. My teammate’s have the same taste in music as my older brother Ian, so as we blared music and scraped it brought me back to our drives together sharing music. My oldest brother Donny, is in love with the mountains and I couldn’t stop thinking about him anytime I looked up and out to the mountains of Quito. I cried when my teammates had a dance party to the Dixie Chicks on the balcony of our ministry. I cried playing with the kiddos and watching how much fun my team was having interacting with them. Saturday I cried because I got to sit at a coffee shop on a corner street in Ecuador: volcano to my right, soy chai tea to my left. This is bliss, but my now I’m a crier.
