Rock climbing through life
It was 1:40 am and I was lying in my bed. My body had woken me up just in time for lunch…in Australia. Thankyou jetlag! It was good that it had, because 20 min later the rain was thundering down. It’s the middle of the rainy season here and has been raining steadily since I arrived, but this was heavy. I leapt out of bed…heavy rain means my bedroom will start to flood. As I dashed around finding old towels, I watched the water seep under my door. At 3:00 am I was sitting on my hunches; bucket of water next to me, soaked towels, but flood kept at bay.
What has the first 48hrs of being back been like?
Overwhelming. I arrived home to a damp and slightly flooded house. My clothes were musty, there were weevils in my food, and enough mould in the bathroom to make a jar of yoghurt jealous. The power went out at 5am the first morning so I cleaned out the litter box the mice had made in one of my cupboards by candlelight.
There’s probably a word for it. Culture shock? Reverse culture shock? Reverse-reverse culture shock? Whatever it’s called, I know it will fade with time and sleep, but right now, it’ s challenging. Things that 3 months ago were familiar and normal are just plain frustrating and hard.
As I sat there on the floor, I watched a worm wiggle under my door and start sliding across my floor, desperate to flee the deluge of rain. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
What on earth am I doing here?!
The day before I left Australia, I caught up with my brother and for fun we decided to go rock climbing. We started with the smaller walls, but eventually decided to tackle some of the higher, more challenging walls. I got half way up a particularly high wall and paused. Not because I was stuck, but because my heart had started to race. I realised how high up I was and part of my brain was afraid I would fall. I was clinging on desperately to a small rock, but having had a tiring climb already, my arms didn’t feel strong. What if I fell? Could I make it to the top? Then it hit me. I wasn’t going to fall. I had a harness and a rope tied to me. It would hold me there. Though my heart was afraid, I was safe. Halfway up a wall, clinging to small handholds, I was reminded of my journey to come. God was with me. He is the harness and rope that anchors me, holds me tight and stops me from falling.
It’ s a hard climb, there are challenges, but God is right there with me.
As my heart settled, I glanced below and saw my brother – a small speck down the bottom, holding onto my rope, calling up encouragement to keep going. What an amazing picture! Not only is God with me on this journey, supporting me, holding me, but in his grace, he has provided people to support me from below. They might not be up on the wall with me, they physically can’t hold my hands, but they have their hands on the rope. Holding it tight, supporting me when I am tired. Calling out encouragement when I lose heart.
My time in Australia was a great time of catching up with the many people who supported me. As I met and talked with people, my favourite phrase to hear was, "We are praying for you.” To all of you, those I met with and those I was able to, thank-you! You are the belayers, holding the rope and sending up prayers and encouragement.
I’m back in Zambia, about to start another two years of teaching here. I am grateful for all your prayers and support and want to encourage you not to grow faint and weary in this. At 2am when I’m squeezing water out of a wet towel to stop flooding, thank-you for your prayers. At 11am when I’m lost for words and squatting down next to a teacher at the funeral of her niece, thank-you for your prayers. At 2pm when I’m stuck in the mud walking to the local shop to buy bread, thank-you for your prayers. At 5pm when I’m trying to get reception to send emails, thank-you for your prayers!
(Rock climbing with my brother)
