Guys, the clock on the wall is ticking down into the 43 day territory before my race. I read somewhere on Facebook that it’s 135 days until we leave for our mission trip. Crazy. Where is this time going?
I have to address something that has hurt my heart. It’s actually bothered me for two weeks now after sharing with a co-worker that I’d be heading to the D.R. She went last year to a resort in Punta Cana and was telling me how lovely the heat would feel after the weeks of winter we’ve had recently. Then she asked me if I was concerned about Zika. Being a woman only a few years older than I, she was glad she got her trip to the Dominican done before the outbreak of the Zika virus. “Cover up in so much Deet,” she told me.
I know it was meant out of concern. No doubt the medical world is reeling from the cases of babies whose lives have been altered by the Zika virus. I know she meant that she hoped I was protecting myself since only the Lord knows the ultimate long term consequences of this virus in our bodies, especially as women. It still hurt my heart. Why wouldn’t I put my life out there to love others? Why would I be so concerned about a mosquito that I wouldn’t show love to the men, women, and children who likely encounter them every day? We’ll be running medical teams in the Dominican. Don’t these women and babies deserve the same medical care that my co-worker is suggesting I guard with my life? Don’t get me wrong, I think that the hotspot for Zika is not the D.R. (I believe Brazil has been hit particularly hard instead). I still think the bible says it best, though:
Mathew 10:39 If you cling to your life you will lose it; but if you give up your life for me, you will find it
(If my pastor is reading this, he knows I was paying attention this past Sunday, and maybe that’s why these comments have stayed so heavy on my heart)
I’m not trying to say that I’m holier than anyone. I absolutely have concerns for traveling half way around this hemisphere to spend 10 days in a world so unfamiliar to me. I’ve heard malaria pills (if they are required by my doctor) can give wicked night terrors in some people, and heaven help everyone in my group if I see a snake. Or a spider. And I already know the “tinkle in the sugarcane fields” bathroom situation awaiting me. But I’ll steal a line from an old Pastor of mine… “God comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable.” May I be the hands comforting rather than the comfortable one in need of affliction.
Speaking of affliction… I’m back into the middle of my second round of training. Is there a curse with the 8 mile run week? Last round of training I felt like my 8 mile day was worse than swimming through jello. This week, it was on a treadmill. It was mentally t-o-u-g-h. I think I took two bathroom breaks just to mentally break up the monotony of the belt going round and round. That and some food network host’s brownie episode were probably the only thing motivating me forward. I made it, though! On to bigger and better mileage!
If you’d like to support my race to the Dominican, you can donate to my youcaring page below: