Travel day for Romania finally came. After what felt like forever, we were officially heading off to our final month in Eastern Europe before Africa. I’ll be totally honest, I’m not usually fond of travel days. I like to travel, it’s the leaving and getting there that usually brings the high level stress in me.
We got up at 5 in the morning to get ready to leave and meet our bus that would take us into our next month of ministry. It also happened to be raining, and slowly going from a sprinkle to a super low level downpour (basically just a steady rain).
At this point in the race, I’ve switched big packs with one of the girls on my squad, having wanted to go smaller.It works great once I figure out how to pack the clothes that are officially so bulky and too big for me now (that’s another story for later). The big pack also has this front pocket that the only way to close it is by buckling the sides and tightening it so nothing inside can fall out through the opening on top.
I happened to have my journal in this pocket with all of my thoughts and such written down going all the way back to Launch in October. Not just that, I’ve kept every single note and letter from squadmates/teammates and people from our various ministries in each country.
I’m not exactly the best at journaling, which might be surprising to those who have seen my constantly growing collection of notebooks, journals, and pens. I’m totally fine sitting down and writing about the fantasy fictional world I’ve been working on for well over 10 years, but when it comes to writing about myself, it’s not quite so easy. It’s difficult for me to form thoughts about how I’m feeling or what I think about what’s going on around me, and it’s especially difficult for me to verbalize them, and I also don’t really get much messages or letters from people, so to journal my thoughts and to keep those notes and letters that others actually took the time to write for me to be able look back on is a HUGE deal.
When I realized that my journal was sitting in that front pocket—pages totally exposed to the rainy elements—I was so worried that once we got to our next location my journal would be totally wrecked, because by now our bags have become COMPLETELY soaked from the rain. I sat on the bus, mentally preparing myself for the worst.
We arrived in Romania.
We got to our location.
I unstrapped that front pocket…
My journal was completely safe and sound without even a trace of any raindrops that could’ve totally destroyed over half a year of my collected thoughts and prayers. My towel and jeans that I had folded in there were definitely a little damp. If I hadn’t been standing just a few feet away from that bag in the pouring rain, I wouldn’t have even known that it had been in danger of being destroyed.
Now, I’m still trying to figure out and process how exactly my journal was spared in the midst of literally every single inch of everyone’s bags becoming completely soaking and dripping wet. But my journey that I’ve written down about my walk with God and everything He’s shown me on the Race is a story that I NEVER would have imagined writing about and couldn’t imagine losing. I know God has something in mind for my story. I have no idea what that could entail or where it could take me, but looking back on how far He’s taken me up to now leaves me at peace for where He’ll take me in the future.
