One morning in the middle of debrief I was sitting at a coffee shop and two of my teammates said they were going to get scooters. A squadmate with plans to take motorcycles up into the mountains overheard the conversation. Within the hour, scooters had been rented, a gang had been formed and about 10 of us were headed out to face the insane traffic of Kathmandu in search of a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
I had no experience and my first seconds on the scooter almost included taking down a passing woman. Despite that, I decided it would be a great idea to invite my squadmate Liz to hop on the back.
“My confidence is at a 6,” I declared and so we set out.
The Nepali drive on the left side of the road and engage in what I like to call a graceful chaos. No one really stops ever, or signals for that matter, you just honk a lot and yield as little as possible to avoid collisions. This seems insane to a foreigner, but once you become a part of it, the flow of it all feels natural and honestly quite safe.
I got the hang of it quick and after out first major intersection, I announced my confidence had risen to an eight. Liz and I released over the roar of traffic shouts of excitement and conquest.
At one point she may have called me a scooter wizard.
The windy roads turned to major interstates and then into rocky hills that led to muddy switchbacks in the mountains far from the city.
We rounded a corner and I saw my squamate in the middle of a large patch of mud. I tried to slow down and swerved to avoid hitting him and before I knew it I lost control and we fell face down in the mud.
The same way you give a thumbs-up when you are choking on water to signal that it isn’t as bad as it looks, I immediately began yelling that I was fine and tried to stand up. I got up pretty quick, but it was a bit worse than I thought.
The scooter fell on top of me, the mirror was crushed and my helmet (along with the whole left side of my body) had mud all over it, so praise the Lord I was wearing it. We couldn’t find a helmet for Liz so praise the Lord even more, because she fell on top of me and was safe aside from a scrape on her hand. I had a big scrape with a few deep cuts on my arm and later on found a myriad of bruises and scratches all over my legs.
We rinsed off in the creek the best we could and decided it would be best if I just kept driving the scooter up the mountain. We were running out of gas so turning around wasn’t a great idea and I felt responsible for driving the scooter since I had rented it and taken it out there.
My confidence wasn’t really shaken too bad until five minutes later when we fell again.
I officially had shell shock and did not want to drive the scooter another foot. After debating our options, we decided Liz would get on the back of another scooter and I would continue driving up the hill alone.
As I continued on, the struggle to keep the scooter straight through the mud got even harder. At one point the glass in the mirror completely fell out. I came to a complete stop, through my head back in frustration and kicked the broken chuck of glass into the mud.
I was pretty embarrassed at the fit I had thrown and told the Lord I couldn’t do it.
I told Him, you have to do this, I will just watch.
I began to feel a peace and a confidence that was not of me. I drove past a small hut and a little nepali girl was sticking her head out. With a huge smile on her face, she yelled something that I couldn’t identify as english, nepali or just two-year old. Either way when she spoke I gasped because the combination of noises sounded a lot like, “YOU CAN DRIVE A SCOOTER!”
I round the final hill and suddenly I could see that I was above the clouds, overlooking a valley making for one of the most beautiful views I have ever seen. A combination of relief and thankfulness overwhelmed me and I felt tears well up in my eyes.
After I gave up on my own strength, God literally carried me up the mountain to show me His beauty.
When we made it home, I went to our nightly worship. I was safe, but I was sore. I had scrapes everywhere, including two very small circular cuts on either palm that hurt when I clapped my hands together.
I heard God say, “What a beautiful reminder of me. I have two scars on both of my hands too!”
Because of those scars I can walk in confidence and worship in freedom knowing I serve a God that will pick me up out of the mud and carry me to the top of a mountain.
