All I wanted to do after traveling for 2 full days was lay down in a spacious corner and stare at the ceiling, listening to my own sighs of relief.
“You will arrive by 6 o’clock,” proclaimed the eager transport company owner, “There are new roads. Very nice.”
Reality check!
As 6 o’clock came and went, every part of me started to scream in protest to stuffing itself into the corner of our steamy black box on wheels. A shroud of black velvet began to fall around us and my cranium buzzed with confusion and doubt.
“Where am I?!” My mind consistently screamed as if it were playing a scratched compact disc stuck on a hair metal track.
The road we drove on gradually became much less new. The dirt and rocks made our little black box ebb and flow as if the ground underneath was alive and we were causing it to wake.
We arrived where we were apparently meant to be for the month. The shroud of black velvet prevented my baby blues from making out exactly where and what ‘here’ was.
My energy tank disallowed me the luxury of alertness and concern. I could do nothing but fill my resting place with air and sleep upon it.
The 24 hours that followed were set aside for orienting ourselves with our new surroundings. The first full day at any ministry site is a roller-coaster of emotions. Excitement mixes with missing what once was which mixes with new linguistic frustrations.
This month, that first 24 hours seemed to amplify itself to a degree comparable to the sound of a foghorn a few centimeters from my eardrum. Something about this change in scenery seemed exceptionally severe.
The Lord knew I was coming close to the end of everything I had. He knew I needed a taste of His living water.
His living water came in the form of a sparkling row of pearly whites. Those pearly whites belonged to a little girl named Sara.
As I sat and waited for dinner to be ready, my eyes glazed over and my lungs halfheartedly took in air.
Zoop! That young brown-haired girl ran right into to me and squeezed me right around the hips.
“My name is Sara!” She looked up at me with a gigantic smile. I felt myself start to come alive. Her smile was refreshing as that first sip of ice water on a sweltering summer day.
“Hi Sara, I’m Emily.” I smiled back sweetly.
She told me she was 10 years old and I all but shed tears of joy.
My youngest sister turned 10 a few months ago. I haven’t seen her since I graduated college in May. By the time I see her again it will have been over a year since I was in her presence. She’s one of the friendliest people I know and she would surely have greeted me with the same warmth.
As I followed her outside to play catch, the memories of spending time with my youngest sister came flooding back to me and it almost felt like she was the girl on the other end of the driveway.
Now I have a band of beads to remember her by and the Lord knows I will remember her in my prayers for years to come.
When it feels like you have nothing left, remember that God is always faithful to replenish your water supply. His energy is endless.
