____________________________________________________________________________
This time last year I was in Cape Town, South Africa. It was one of my favorite months on the WR. We lived and ministered with Ma and Pa at the Jeremiah Project. I loved the ministry and the neighborhood kids that we worked with. Days off we spent traveling around with our contacts to see all the beauty that Cape Town has to offer. Cape Town is one of the most beautiful places that I traveled to and it has some of the most breathtaking beaches right next to the mountains. Our days off tended to be busier than our ministry days. On one of our days off we were taken to hike Table Mountain (on the Kasteelspoort trail, I believe). We were told that it would take about 3 hours... to the top and back.
I was excited to go and my whole team went. On the WR you go where your team goes... so I don’t remember thinking much about it. But I should have.... You see, a couple weeks prior our team had been blessed to go out on the boat of one of the volunteers we'd worked with in Johannesburg, South Africa. We went tubing and then they were teaching us to water ski. It was my turn and I actually got up on the skis for a little bit. I was trying to remember what they had told us... “arms straight,” check; “legs together,” nope. As I tried to bring them together, the waves took my left leg a different direction which caused me to twist my knee. I went down and the skis went flying off. As I bobbed in the water, my left leg was bent and I couldn't move it. For a moment I freaked out inside and was afraid that I had broken it. The guy on the Jet Ski rode up and asked if I was okay. I very calmly and simply told him, “My knee hurts.” He grabbed me by the life vest and pulled me over to the boat and they pulled me in. I was able to stretch my leg out some. When we got back to shore I put my leg up and iced it. I'm not exactly sure if I tore something or what I did to my knee but it swelled really big. I couldn't bend it all the way without it hurting. My injury slowed me down the rest of that month but it didn't stop me. I just spent a little more time on the couch elevating and icing my knee and I adjusted my walk to not bend my knee so much. We then traveled to Cape Town. The swelling had gone and my knee was getting better but it wasn't completely healed and I should have thought about that and what it might be like to climb a mountain with an injured knee….
Pa had woken us up early that day by yelling throughout the house. He wanted us to get an early start to be able to climb the mountain during the cool part of the day. We stopped and prayed at the beginning of the trail and then we were off. The first part of the journey was filled with talk, laughter, and a slight inclining slope. We were off to a good start and the view was incredible.
A little ways into it a couple of the girls from the ministry decided to turn back because of problems with asthma. The rest of us continued on. So far things had been pretty good and we were thinking we had to be halfway up the mountain. Boy, were we wrong! We then got to a part that was like stairs... so you really were climbing and not just walking. This is when it got difficult for me. I realized that I couldn't really put my full weight on my knee to push myself to the next step. So I began to climb with my good leg. Each step. For a while that was okay. But if you have ever tried to climb a bunch of stairs or a mountain with one leg doing all the work... you know that you tire much quicker. I was out-of-breath, exhausted, and the muscles in my good leg were burning. The steps turned into actual climbing. I pushed myself but I began to slow down and fall behind. I needed to rest more often.
That was hard for me but my team was great. Someone was always back with me and they were there for me... offering to carry my bag or give me a hand. I brushed them off saying that I could do it. I never once admitted to them that day how much I was hurting or how much I was struggling. 
I would even put a smile on for pictures but inside I began to beat myself up... telling myself I should have turned back when the other girls did but it was too late now so need to keep going, that I was holding everyone back, and on and on and on.... We finally reached a point that we were going downhill slightly. Excited to be at the top, I picked up my pace. I stepped wrong on one of the rocks and jerked my knee again. Tears sprang to my eyes as I felt the pain in my knee. Thankful for my sunglasses to hide the tears, I kept going... until further ahead I realized I wasn't at the top. It was time to climb again. I stopped and looked up. Feeling defeated I thought, “I can't do this. I can't go on.” I sat to rest. I was done... physically and emotionally. My teammates that were behind me caught up and I think they knew. They surrounded me and prayed over me. Then they were offering anything and everything that they thought might help... a sandwich, a piece of gum, an iPod, and an umbrella (to keep the sun off me). I begrudgingly accepted it all except the umbrella. I'm not sure how they were expecting me to climb carrying an umbrella but the picture of it made me laugh.
Chewing gum and listening to music, I was off again. My attitude changed as I remembered Philippians 4:13 “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” I prayed for God to strengthen me and help me make it to the top. As I was praying, Franklin, one of the guys from Jeremiah Project, held out his hand to help pull me up on a big rock. I didn't want to accept the help. But then I heard God speak....
You keep asking me for help. I keep offering to help you and you don't accept my help. Here I am right in front of you. I am offering my hand and you keep pushing me away....Will you accept my help this time?
I felt like God had reached down and smacked me upside the head. I had been praying for God to help ME. I’m not sure what I thought He would do whether heal my knee to make things easier or what but that He was going to do something so that I would be able to accomplish this without having to admit to my team that I couldn’t do it or having to depend on anyone else.
Humbled, I reached out and grabbed Franklin’s hand. He pulled me up and we kept climbing. Shortly after that we truly had arrived at the top. I was never so glad to see my teammates that had gone up ahead. We had made it!
I share this story because it was the beginning of my recognition of something I have done for a long time and I’m sure you can even tell that from my response in Jo’burg when I got hurt (I just didn’t recognize it then). I am an independent person. I do not like to admit weakness or failure, much less ask for help. My independence was something I was proud of. My belief was that I am a capable person and I don't need help from others because I can do it myself. My pride kept me from sharing with my team about how I was doing during the climb. Because I didn't talk about it, my thoughts and in essence my pride tore me down emotionally and spiritually that day. My pride kept me from asking for help. Yet with my team, I didn't have to ask for help – they were there offering themselves; their love. And I couldn't accept it. I pushed them away. Sometimes God uses other people as His hands and feet; so ultimately in pushing them away, I was pushing God away... not accepting His love. That was the realization that hit me when God spoke on the mountain that day. It was one of the most humbling moments and since then God has continued to work in that area of my life.
During the rest of my trip it was seen in little ways... for instance, when we were traveling and I automatically picked up my bag to carry it and dismissed the offer for one of the guys to take it. But having talked with my team after that day, they knew so they got after me and I would have to give up my bag. It was a struggle but I began to learn to accept help when it was offered.
Since being back in the States, it is something I have had to let go of more and more. God has stripped me of everything of the independent life I had before the WR. No longer living on my own, I am back living in my parents' basement. No job. No car. It was a struggle at first and still is at times. Feeling like I had somehow failed at life and afraid of what people would think. I had to let go of my pride and hold on to the truth. I am not a failure. I am living the life God has called me to and it is a blessing to be able to live with my parents. It has gotten easier but sometimes I feel like I'm back in Jr. High... having to ask to borrow a car or for rides to get places and everything but God is using that to stretch me and make me grow. That is when I have to let go of my pride and ask for help. I literally can't get anywhere without Him. And when I ask, He provides. There is purpose in where He has me and I am learning to TRUST Him.
No comments:
Post a Comment