Disclaimer: The first half of this blog post is going to
sound like a mildly depressing sob story, but I promise there is a point. If
you are considering going on the World Race or are a future racer, don’t let
this discourage you. It’s all part of the journey.
Everyone has bad days. Sometimes you just wake up on the
wrong side of the bed, or you have to skip your morning coffee. Sometimes you
get caught in traffic, or you miss an important appointment. Sometimes
something more drastic happens to ruin your day. No matter how it manifests
itself, a bad day can bring you down from the high that your life was on and
make you think about things in a new light.
Tuesday the 22rd was not a good day in the life
of Emily. We were halfway through our second week of helping with Vacation
Bible School in El Reten, and each day we had to walk a roundtrip of six miles
into the rainforest to get to the tiny village where VBS was taking place.
Since this was wearing us all out, Tiffany suggested that we each take a
personal day off that week, and I chose Wednesday. As we hiked out on Tuesday
afternoon I started feeling ill, but because other people were taking their
rest day I decided that I needed to keep going.
By the time we reached the school where the VBS was
happening, I was decently convinced that if I spoke I would throw up, so I
spent the next two hours sitting on the floor trying not to move and dreading
the three mile hike home. By the end of VBS I was so nauseated and dizzy that I
could barely stand, so while my teammates went for a swim in the river I went
to a nearby house and fell asleep on their floor. When I woke up I was
overwhelmed by the strong smell of drying cacao beans. If you know anything
about the chocolate making process, you might join me in wondering just how it
is that the world’s most delicious-tasting substance is a direct byproduct of
the world’s single most foul-smelling plant. On their own, without the aid of a
stomach virus, cacao beans are enough to instantly nauseate me, so their
presence was not welcome in my current state of health. Somehow, I managed to
restrain my overactive gag reflex long enough to make it down the path and away
from the offending cacao.
As we hiked down the hill toward the river, we had to cross
under several barbed wire fences. Now, as many of you know, I’m not the most
coordinated person, but I had made it through the fences successfully three
times already, so I was feeling moderately confident that the fourth attempt
would go equally well. False. Because dizziness and nausea weren’t fun enough,
I went ahead and snagged my leg on the barbed wire fence and tore upon a nice four-inch
gash on my right calf. I’ve never been one to faint at the sight of blood, but
given my current condition, let’s just say it didn’t help matters much.
Because no one was convinced that I would make it all three
miles home, they arranged for me to ride on the back of someone’s moto most of
the way. This seemed like a decent plan, except that a bouncy motorcycle ride
is not generally acknowledged to be the cure of choice for an upset stomach.
But I climbed on the back and held on, determined not to throw up on the nice
man driving me home. The ride went smoothly until we reached the house. I tried
to gracefully dismount the moto, but my seven years of ballet lessons failed me
and I tripped, thus shoving my right leg (which was still bleeding
significantly from the barbed wire incident) into the scalding hot exhaust pipe
on the moto. My wound tally now included a bleeding cut and a blistering burn
within three inches of each other. Awesome.
To avoid breaking a bone, inadvertently impaling myself on a
fence post, or accidentally dismembering any innocent bystanders with my
apparently unavoidable clumsiness, I decided it was time to hide in my tent and
wallow in my misery. I cleaned my cut, took a shower, and spent the next
thirty-six hours lying as still as possible to avoid vomiting. Said thirty-six
hours also included a high fever, lots of chills and sweating, not a lot of
quality sleep, and a couple hundred new bug bites. I spent my day off avoiding
food and trying to keep my fever down.
So, you may ask, other than a quality vent session for me,
what is the point of this blog post?
The point is that during this obviously subpar day, I was
more able to feel the love and prayers of everyone who is supporting me that at
any other time on the race so far. At one point, I was sitting in my tent, and
I thought that maybe if I cried I would feel better. If you know me, you know
that emotional expression has never been a strong point or a favorite of mine,
but I figured a few tears might be just the cathartic release that I needed.
So, in a moment strikingly reminiscent of Cameron Diaz in The Holiday, I sat in my tent trying to cry. I managed about half a
tear before I gave up. I realized that crying, although thoroughly merited in
the situation, would not fix anything. Instead of crying, I sat in my tent and
thought about all the people in my life who love me, bless me constantly, and
support me in this journey, no matter how difficult it can sometimes be. In
that moment, I could literally feel that I was being prayed for, and that no
matter how unfortunate my current circumstances, I was exactly where I was
supposed to be.
The point of this blog post is to thank all of you for your
constant outpouring of love and prayers for my team and me. We have been faced
with some tough challenges over the past two months, but we have gotten through
them and even thrived because we are being supported and surrounded by so many
prayers. Many of you read this blog, comment on it, and send me encouraging
emails. Due to my lack of consistent Internet access, I almost never answer
your comments and emails, but please know that I read and cherish every single
one of them. I’m sorry that my communication is so inconsistent, but please
know that your encouragement, love, and prayers are immensely needed and deeply
appreciated. Most days on the race are great, but everyone has bad days, and
that doesn’t stop on the race. On days like those, it’s so nice to know that
all of you have my back! Thank you and I love all of you!
