As part of ministry in Nepal, we trekked to a remote mountain village called Dungdunge where we spent four days helping build a school. Before it was built, children were dying trying to cross the river on their way to school. This is the second in a two part series on my thoughts and lessons from a week in the mountains.
Part Two is a better explanation of what I learned about God and myself from hiking, camping, and doing manual labor for a week. Check out Part One here.
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I’ve never been the most physically active person. If I’m being honest, I’ve always hated working out. The only value I saw in it was that I could lose weight and become more accepted by society (ahem..and men).
So when I found out we were hiking four hours to a remote mountain village in Nepal, I was less than excited. However, looking back, the Lord taught me things in one week that I think He’s been trying to teach me for 23 years.
I am an incredibly strong person. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. I can do so much more than I think I can, and give myself so much less credit than I deserve. I killed it during that hike. Of course I was tired, but I stayed near the front of the line almost the whole time. When I previously would have been outwardly negative and given up, I pushed through. I thanked God in the midst of trial. I saw the beauty when things were difficult.
I realized for the hundredth time (this month) that I am a completely different person than I was five months ago.
My body deserves to be respected. It is being loaned to me for my time on Earth and I need to steward it well (gosh, Christianese – sorry for that one). In all seriousness, I’ve never respected my body much. I’ve never consistently cared for it physically and I’ve fed it terrible things that have wrecked my health.
When I finished the hike and stopped to think about what I just accomplished, I was amazed. I felt incredible. The sense of accomplishment was overwhelming. I was exhausted, I had blisters, I kind of wanted to cry, but I just finished something I wouldn’t have started five months ago.
The next day we jumped right into manual labor for three days. If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that manual labor is not my forte. I don’t like it, and it doesn’t like me. We’re mutual enemies. Even so, the Lord brought redemption to this not so great side of the week.
For example, teamwork is awesome. I’m generally independent and like to do things by myself. Well, when you have to carry 40 large stones from a valley up a steep mountain, it’s best to bring in reinforcements. Zsquad.5 became real good at assembly lines real quick that week. Carrying full jerry cans of water up that same hill is a lot easier when you have 5 people to help you.
And the icing on the cake of my week in the mountains: I learned I genuinely enjoy hiking and camping. Living in Nebraska, those really aren’t things I could learn to love growing up. With cornfields being my only surroundings, good hiking trails are in short supply.
While some of my squadmates were crying because they hated being on the mountain so much, I woke up filled with joy at the sight of sunlight streaming into my tent. I loved sitting around the campfire every night just hanging out with my friends and letting my thoughts get lost in the flames of the fire. I loved drinking coffee out of a metal cup and eating noodles for breakfast. I didn’t even mind not showering for 8 days (#worldraceproblems). There are worse things in the world.
My week in a Nepalese mountain village was definitely the hardest week physically on the World Race. A week I was initially dreading become one of my favorite weeks of the Race so far. It’s funny how God does that. I love that I am the daughter of a redemptive God.
So, who wants to go camping?
