What started out as an otherwise completely ordinary day quickly turned into a breathless adventure with high risks and deeper dependency than I was ready to ask for.
I’ve had two somewhat similar experiences in the last few years. Once was in Jaco, Costa Rica nearly drowning in the Caribbean Sea. Another was a surprising wake-up call to a raging fire threatening our apartment building on my original race. Which was shortly followed by a series of riots in Lebanon that perhaps one day, I will unfold the tale of.
All of that to say: If you’re not wanting to hear the tale of how my leadership team and I confronted the elements, this is not the blog series for you 🙂
It began as a mundane day apart from that fact that I finally managed to put some mascara on before I was spotted by another human being, and that felt like a big win.
Myself and the brand spankin new leadership team: April, Claran, and Anthony burst from the front doors.
“It’s so beautiful.” I repeated over and over, stunned by the sight of the usually austere hills surrounding our home coated in blankets of snow. It was a winter wonderland everywhere you looked and sweeping memories came rushing in of places I’ve traveled and experienced snow from Taylor Smith New Kid 2012 cackling at me as I wondered how to get out of a car that had been parked in snow (The answer is: just get out.), to soft snowfall in Ishinomaki, Japan from outside J’s cafe on that first morning in town, to the snow capped mountains of Kyrgystan welcoming us into their arms on what I can only describe as a night that epitomizes still and silent for me forevermore.
I donned my fiercest general’s stance and packed my snowballs diligently with one target in mind: Bring Anthony down. Do not fear my readers, he started it. He also finished it unfortunately, but PLEASE, I grew up in California and I brought all the sknow-how I could.
IT WAS FUN!!!!
We meandered around downtown Istanbul doing touristy things like going into the grand bazaar, getting expensive Turkish rug estimates, drinking the tea of strangers, you know how it goes. It was bitterly cold and as we tramped from location to location, we ducked into wherever looked friendly for refuge, taking only one long pitstop where we grabbed hot chocolate and baklava.
Someone texted April asking if we were okay since it was heavy out there.
“Spiritually heavy?” She asked inquisitively. Little did we know that the snow had already started coming down in spades on the side of the city that we were staying in.
Eventually, we’d seen what we’d come to see and piled back into a taxi around 1:30PM, determined to fetch sweet Claran some boots for the winter that Turkey was sporting.
I took a car nap, wanting to maximize on opportunity, and woke up to our vehicle surrounded by shouting stranger with money in their hands.
Unversed in the local customs, I took this as a normal occurence and nestled my head back against the window. Admittedly, one eye was peeped open in suspicion, but I was mostly unbothered. Our taxi driver said that he would be willing to take us straight back to our hotel for a hefty fee. We all shared a glance and after some deliberation agreed that it was likely our better option. We pushed through all the people trying their luck with our driver and zoomed onto the freeway. Our spirits were high and hopeful, but April was looking a little bit green.
It took us unusually long to get to our intended first destination, and now we sat on the freeway chattering away at each other, grabbing handfuls of snow off the roof, and longing for another snack. Awestruck, we watched the hours creeping by, our vehicle hitting stretches of freedom and then crawling along slower than imaginable.
Eventually night fell. April’s condition appeared to be worsening. Claran’s phone was dead. Our taxi driver responded to his frustration with frequent smoke breaks, the smell winding it’s way around the car and stubbornly invading April’s bubble. Occasionally Anthony and I had the priviledge of bursting from the car to help get us unstuck from the snow. I sat on my feet to warm them up in between pushes. The clock hit 10:30PM, our exasperated driver trying to explain the situation, April sicker than she’d been all day, all of us pretty desperate to get out of this car, Anthony looked over his shoulder from the front seat and asked:
“Should we just walk?”
I dropped my head to pray and felt everyone else do the same.
What I heard was:
“I will give you safe passage.”
I thanked Him for His promise and His character and began making preparations to get out of the car.
