Ithad been a long summer. The sun scoured down on all of us, as we worked tirelessly to complete water projects in that beautiful Caribbean island. In our little red truck, nicknamed El Tigre Rojo, we drove from San Pedro in the Dominican Republic to our current place in Port-Au-Prince, Haiti. We'd just spent the last 3 weeks working in a steamy, grimy city and we were ready to head back to our next location.
We'd dropped off a few people at the airport that morning. At that time, we were all trying to spend some time at home over the summer for seasonal work. After that, it was only me, Ryan, and our friends Zach and Philipson. Ryan had procured a broken leg just a few weeks before then and his leg was bound up in a make-shift cast. I laughed as he brushed up against me, all of us trying to squish into the truck out of Port-Au-Prince.
There's this stretch of road as you drive out of Port that is filled with potholes and bumpy video game like stretches. It is full of beauty, though, too. There are little villages scattered about, banana trees, hills of red dirt and people all around. For me, it is like taking a deep breath of fresh(er) air. During this particular drive out, as I was filling up my proverbial lungs with that fresh air, a large thud brought me back to reality. Our truck had stopped. In the middle of the road.
Did I mention my husband was in a leg cast with crutches?
Quickly, the situation was resolved enough to push the truck, with Ryan steering the large truck, close enough to a gas station to coast in there.
Though it would seem like we'd run out of gas, this was not the problem. It was the issue of no water in the radiator! While this is an easy enough fix, I don't think I will ever forget what happened for the next 15 minutes. It went like this: asking where we could park our car and trying to coast there. Being told to move our car. Getting out of the car and looking for water. Finding out there was a well on property. Looking for a bucket. Finding rope to tie to the bucket. Dropping the bucket into the well. Pulling up a very small amount of water. Pouring that into another bucket for someone else to pour into the car. And then repeat.
About 45 minutes later, we were all back in the car, laughing at the what we had to do to fix this problem. We carried on and crossed the border back into the Dominican Republic and the rest is history.
This story is good for me. This season has been one of extreme ups and downs for me- adjusting to life in a new way and feeling like there is supposed to be a "quick fix" button for me to push in order for me to coast my way through these issues. However, it just hasn't been like that. With each obstacle I have faced, there are 100 little nuances that need to be taken care of, as well.
I am the car in this story today. I need some seemingly easy care, but I can't seem to get it together to get up the hill. I need help from my people. I need a quick fix, but what I get is a bucket to drop down into that deep part of myself that I don't want to think about at the moment. For deep healing, though, I've gotta do it. I am wrestling with giving up, attempting to drive my car and keep moving forward without the necessary items I need just so I don't have to deal with digging into that well of mine. That's not going to happen though-- because, you know, the truck is broken down. My heart and my body are screaming out the same thing, too. Take care of me! So, I have been trying to do this. To hone in and focus.
To be honest, I just didn't think it would take so much work.
That's the thing about getting well. We have to want it bad enough to truly seek those deep places that aren't really open in our hearts. We have to be willing to do the difficult work, even though we think there could be an easier way to do these things. Easy and efficent does not always equal whole and healing.
Today, I am in need of a little water. And, for the first time in a while I am willing to do whatever it takes to make sure I get it.