I've never had a lasting injury before. An injury that has followed me around, preventing me from doing things I can normally do. Like walk for more than 30 minutes. Since the fall in Guatemala, the skin on my leg has healed up just fine…it of course left scars on my leg, but that was expected. What wasn't expected was the pain inside my foot. Without a doctor it's hard to tell exactly what it is…all I know is that according to some opinions and a little research I either tore a tendon/ligament or stretch it. Which is 8-12 weeks of staying off of it, compresses, and elevation. Two months of my race spent babying my foot. Well, I haven't done a very good job about that…seeing as I only have this one year in my life to be in these places. Not only is there a physical injury…but I didn't realize until yesterday that mentally, I'm still hurting as well. This past weekend Team Mishpacha decided to take a little family vacation to the beach and a volcano. We've been saving up all month in order to make it happen…and this month flew by…before we knew it, it was time to go. So Monday morning at 5:30 we sat at the bus stop and waited. After 4 buses and a taxi, we made it to the beach. I always feel so close to the Lord whenever I'm near water…especially the ocean. The power of the waves…the sand between my toes…God is so creative. To make it even better, we rented some surf boards. I love off days. I had the opportunity to indulge in a chicken salad…to sit and relax…to FaceTime my Manfriend, and to surf for the first time. It was just a time to soak up happiness and Jesus and to relax. Just what this girl needed.
Yesterday, we decided to go to a nearby Volcano and sled down. This is something I've wanted to do for a very long time…ever since I read about it in an Alumni's blog (shout out to Helena!). So when we were on our way, I couldn't have been more excited. It wasn't until I saw the volcano that something stirred in me that I had never felt before. I began to feel sick to my stomach…then my heart started racing…then my breathing got shallower and shallower. We pulled up next to a beautiful building and the guide explained that we would need to sign our name, age, and country of origin in a book. Then, if needed, use the restroom as it would be the last time until we came back down the volcano. I remember shaking as I washed my hands and walked back to the van. We drove a little further and then got back out of the van. The volcano was massive…and looming. They gave us a little backpack full of our safety equipment and our sleds which ended up weighing maybe a little more than 10lbs. After a few pictures, we began our assent. The terrain was lava rock…which if you've ever walked on just lava rock, you know how fragile they feel. Not only that, but the further we got up, the smaller the rocks got…and the looser the gravel was. I began to have flashbacks to when I fell. When my foothold gave out. When I began to tumble and rag doll down an incline very similar to the one we were going to slide down. The higher we climbed, the more I began to panic. I couldn't breath…tears stung my eyes. I felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. One of my teammates and dear sisters, Teresa, was literally sent by Jesus to help me get up that volcano. During our third break and the tears started flowing…Teresa came and sat by me, put her hand on my back and began to pray. She spoke life to me…reminding me that this was a different day…a different situation. That God was big enough to save my life that day, and that He is big enough to keep me from danger this time. We climbed higher and higher…when we got to the top I gasped for air…trying to fill my lungs like I did at the bottom of the mountain I fell down. It was just as hard. We walked around the summit for a bit…cooling off, and again Teresa spoke life…quoting scripture and praying over me.
I dressed into my safety gear quietly…blinking the tears out of my eyes…briefly considering walking back down instead of sliding. I knew I had to do it though. And soon enough, it was my turn. I walked to the edge of the volcano and trembling…put my sled down on the ground. The guide, who happened to be a believer, sensed my hesitance and walked me through the steps again. I just had to remember that I controlled the speed. To dig my heels in if I wanted to go slower…and to remember that I was safe. Then he moved away…leaving me directly in front of 2200ft of volcanic sand at a 45 degree angle. I closed my eyes…all I could see were the things I saw as I was falling. I began my prayer then. I opened my eyes…and pushed off. I whimpered as I began to pick up speed. I dug my heels into the rocks and begged Jesus to keep me safe. I went at a consistent speed the entire way down…slow. It went on forever…but the closer I got to the bottom, the more I realized that God totally had this. Then I did reach the bottom. Still shaking…my heart was still racing…but I was totally alive. And unscathed. No bruises, no cuts…
I'm so thankful that the fear that began my second week in Guatemala was conquered during the last week in Nicaragua. That because of awesome teammates and Jesus, I was able to literally take that leap again. I'm thankful that I didn't let the enemy have yesterday. That I chose Faith instead of Fear.
