After a 14.5 hour direct flight from Atlanta, Georgia to Johannesburg, South Africa and a sleepover in the airport that we were strangely excited for, we hopped on a bus to Cape Town and finally got to see Africa from outside a building. It smelled of summer. The sky was bright, the grass green, and the air fresh. I saw women walking fancifully with umbrellas, as white butterflies danced all around them. At night, I saw beautiful churches subtly illuminated by street lights wisp by me from the bus window. I was even amused by the glow of the neon lights at each gas station pit stop. I took in all the scenery with headphones on and the soundtrack of my life completing the scene.
Needless to say, I was thrilled to be in Africa and was seeing it through an idealistic lens.
That was until 3 days into our stay in Ocean View.
I woke up fatigued, weak, feeling feverish, and nauseous. My greatest fear of the race was realized: I was sick in a foreign country and felt helpless. All I wanted was home because no one wants to be dry heaving over a dirty toilet bowl in a house that isn’t home surrounded by people who still have a lot to learn about you.
I.Was.Miserable.
There was a steady stream of tears flowing from that day on through the next. The most discouraging thought returned: “I REALLY cannot do this.” I have had to fight that mentality every day.
You see, my greatest weakness and the source of this immense doubt is a panic disorder that I have struggled with for 4 years. It has left me broken and vulnerable countless times. I want my blog to be raw, real, and transparent so I will share the story of my struggle with anxiety eventually. For now, just know that this isn’t glamorous. It is a fight for me every day. My imperfections and emotions have been amplified, but there is grace from the people who have been placed in my life for this season and most importantly from God.
Please come along side me in prayer for deliverance once and for all.
