This is part three of a three part blog series on an adventure we had through a snowstorm in Istanbul. This is golden “Back in My Day…” kinda stuff for when I have Grandkids! If you haven’t read Part One or Part Two yet, I highly recommend it. Of course, if you want to, you can totally just hop in right here! Dealer’s choice my friends!
This is when things really began to pick up. It was around 1:00AM. We were off in a very quiet, very desolate part of town and our run-ins with open businesses, cars, or people were at an all time low. It was very quiet, I was in a lot of pain. Claran was beginning to grow frustrated as she had to choose between slipping on ice or letting snow get into her shoes. We had more than one close call with someone else eating it.
“Can you ask Anthony to slow down so that I can fix this?” Claran asked in a whisper, talking about her ripped plastic bag socks that had finally given up on her.
I did, and suddenly we found a huge line of vehicles all pointed in the same way filled with people trying impossibly to get somewhere, just like us. We went window to window, asking if anyone would let Claran in to change her plastic bag socks. Truthfully, they were doodoo bags that you use to pick up doggy stuff. Please. Pause here and delight in the humor of that with me.
Thank you.
I approached the window of an unmarked white van, a wonderfully round face looking at me through the glass. He rolled his window down and began to speak to me in Turkish. I responded kindly in English that my friend needed somewhere to change her socks. “Where go?” He asked me. I asked for his phone so I could type it in. “Get in!” He noticed my wary look, “No money! Get In!” He opened the back door and I waved everyone in. Met by a wall of paper towel rolls he said: “Two here, two there” Pointing between the front and the back. I looked between the two of them and vaulted myself into the back. Claran came in after me. “Go ahead and start taking your shoes and socks off Claran.” She proceeding to do so, me standing as the van began to bounce along the road. “Stick your feet in my ovens.” I said giggling a little bit at an inside joke with April. (Your ovens are your armpits)
Photo Evidence:
Her feet warmed up and I got to a seated position eventually, every little bump in the road seeming to send shivers up and down my spine. I prayed for healing. Claran told me that I was doing well and I cried a couple, JUST A COUPLE, tears of relief. I couldn’t stop shivering and did a mental intake to check and see if the safe refuge had made room for me to experience some bottled up anxiety. It hadn’t. I was just cold from my coat being soaked through. The human body is so incredibly well designed, don’t you think???
I was chattering away in the back unable to get myself to warm up. Our driver checked on me, hearing me and worrying a bit. I did a pump up for myself: Being able to articulate your needs is a sign of an emotionally mature adult, Ari. “Anthony, can I trade with you for a while?” I slipped into the cab of the van feeling remorseful and weak for not being able to stick out the cold in the back, but my spirit rose up and turned that on it’s head. Thank you Lord, Thank you for warming me up.
Once I got up to the front, I saw that his gas tank was at 1/4 full. I prayed over it that it would not get any lower than that as he kept the heater on for us whether we were moving or not. More tea passed through the window from locals wanting to help. Anthony and Claran singing a series of swan songs in the back and silliness levels due to delirium reached an all-time high.
More Photo Evidence:
(Taken from the cab of our van)
((L: Claran, R: Anthony))
I was so grateful and stunned and bewildered and confident in the Lord all at once. ‘We’re gonna have somewhere to sleep tonight, and that’s very happy.’ I thought to myself.
Some men walked past in government worker attire with shovels. “God has sent the snow angels!!” We cheered them on and prayed over them. They dug a path that we followed and our driver flew down the road. My eyes lit up at our speed, we’d barely moved what I’d guess was 3/4’s of a mile up to this point and suddenly we were soaring. He tried every possible avenue to get us where we needed to go, but it was definite. We were stuck on the wrong side of the bridge. After a delightful four whole hours with him, including but not limited to: some incredible car manuvering, lots of laughs, the maccabee’s menorah tale playing out before our very eyes with our gas tank, he pulled over and said: “Get out.” We rebundled, surprised, and got onto the road, looking at the place he was leaving us and it’s unpromising appearance, preparing to walk from there. Just then, another car shot out of nowhere and opened their doors.
“Get in.” He said. Ah, our friend had called his friend. We said our thank you’s and goodbye’s and my eyes filled again with tears of gratitude for his beligerent attempts to get us home. We piled in, three in the back, one in the front. It was about 4:30AM and the night had plunged us even further into freezing temperatures. He took us as far as he could and said: “Okay, you’ll have to walk from here. This is as far as I can go.”
We got onto the road and we held out ours thumbs again as we trudged along, all of us shivering together. A huge, intimidating truck pulled up and I dropped my arm. They rolled the window down, Turkish rolling out and into our ears. “I’m so sorry, we only speak English.” I responded.
“Where are you going?” Came peeling out in perfect English, a melody to my tired heart. We gave them the name of our hotel and entered it in their phone. “Get in.”
“Your English is really good! Where are you from?”
“I grew up in the States, in California.”
“Oh really, where?”
She named a city near San Diego.
“I went down to Encinitas all the time growing up. My Grandparents lived in Carlsbad!!”
The female of our rescue counterparts gave us all kinds of tips about How To: Turkey. “Wow! You’re all so beautiful!” She exclaimed when the lights came on. Remember here that us ladies were all sporting mascara down our cheeks, so this felt very kind.
Our strong and silent rescuer noticed a car stuck in the snow and decided to tow him out. All of us chatted from inside the car, comfy and cozy with intermittent energetic attempts to get this man free. The car lunged forward like a high action thrill ride, better than any time I’ve ever ridden Indiana Jones. This dude was one of the best drivers I’ve seen. His confidence as he hit ice, sliding around without a trace of loss of control, driving over center dividers, sliding between trees, talk about a high adrenaline adventure. My energy levels suddenly spiked and peaked.
Eventually the landscape became familiar. I stretched my arms out, able to touch all of my teammates at once for the first time all night. I thought of the verse that says: ““O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the one who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!” Matthew 23:37
Is this how the Father feels about us too? Does He just want to gather us up to Him, safe underneath his wings? I’d felt a certain sense of protectiveness and desire to be able to do this the whole time. To gather each of us up and tuck us away. To shield us from the cold and the sometimes scary or frustrating or unknown. This is exactly how I felt during the fire and the riots in Lebanon. I wanted to tuck them under my arms and carry them away too. This has to be the kind of love that wants things to be the way they’re supposed to be.
We pulled up to our hotel at 6:00AM, the sky just barely beginning it’s daily brightening, sunrise still a distant thought, hours away. But when you’ve been straining for the sun to rise, you notice those little degrees of light beginning to come. Do I strain to notice Him? Am I watching eagerly and expectantly for Him to show up? To the depth that I would notice miniscule shifts and changes and know right away: He’s coming, He’s in the room.
I refused to sleep in my apartment alone, more of the same Jerusalem, Jerusalem feeling lingering.
I want to be able to see each of you when I wake up. How was this even real? Is everyone going to be okay? I wonder how they’re all feeling.
We came into the apartment exhausted and immediately causing a ruckus. Too tired to tidy the glass bottles we sent rolling, we just let it be, each going to their respective couch or bed and falling immediately asleep as a tuckered pile of person.
I Will Give you Safe Passage rang through my mind once more.
Yeah Lord. You’re Good. So Good. Too Good to us.
Matthew 6:25-34
Thank you so much for joining me on my snowy adventure! I feel very blessed that the Lord trusts me enough to allow me to have experiences like that where I get to see: What comes out when I get pressed? He trusts us and allows us to partner with His Kingdom!!
