Travel days. I don't like them.
Packing gives me a headache. I always seem to have less and less room for my things. You'd think one would become better at packing as the year goes on. I'm here to tell you, that when it comes to me, that is most definitely not the case.
My least favorite thing about travel days, however, has been hauling all of the stuff I decided I needed to bring/buy on the Race on my back, my front, and in my hands.
That's all changed now, though.
Let me tell you a little story.
Here's what went down… (This is a pun. You'll understand why.)
We packed all of our things and loaded them into a car. Our contacts treated us to breakfast and drove our packs to the train station. We got on the train, and after about 3 and a half hours, we were in Sofia. We grabbed all of our things and unloaded the train.
As we were walking out of the train station, we had to go down some stairs. There were two rows of them, and then two broken escalators that were in between them. On the right side of the staircase, there was a woman who had fell, laying at the bottom. People were all around her, keeping her down and getting her help.
Keep in mind, while all of this is happening, I am carrying my large pack on my back, my day pack on my front, and a guitar in my hand. I can't see the stairs ahead of me, and I'm distracted at what is happening on the other stairs. I made it down the first flight to a small platform, just fine. And just as I was about to take a step down to the next stair, I missed. I felt myself going down. Face first. There was no stopping it.
There were two people in front of me, at the time, and by the grace of God, I didn't take them out with me. I dropped the guitar case, said a bad word, and tumbled down the stairs. Did I mention that I went FACE first? You could say I was trying to be like the penguins in Antarctica, sliding belly first into an ocean of ice cold water. However, all that awaited me were cement stairs and a cement landing at the bottom.
In all of the chaos, I was able to grab onto my day pack and tuck my face in behind it. My big pack was strapped on around my waist and chest, so my back was also protected.
Here's the coolest part– when I got to the bottom of the stairs, Marianne had dropped her things and run over to where I was laying (unable to get up because of the 50lb bag on my back and the 15+lb bag on my front.) I popped my head out, and I was laughing. Aside from a little scratch on my hand, a goose egg on my ankle, and a few bumps here and there (that have now turned into super cool, stair shaped bruises) I was perfectly fine. I unstrapped my pack, got up, put it back on, and walked away.
I used to complain about having to carry my packs all over the world. But now, I'll think twice before tearing them down. They saved me from a lot of pain, and even made it possible to laugh at the situation. God had his eyes and his angels all over me that day.
Life's great. God's greater! Praise Jesus!
On a side note, I am 84% funded. I still need about $2,900. We have one month to get fully funded. Help keep me here! Blessings.
