For a 2 hour tour - Part 2

         When we finally got to shore we were soaked from head to toe and even though we were in the tropics we were all cold from being drenched in rain. As we walked the dock, we noticed these long black pipes laying on the side. They were pretty hot to the most people’s touch, but just perfect for what we needed. We all laid on them to warm our bodies. It was our way of kissing the ground thanking God we finally landed. Even my uncle took off his sweatshirt he had worn and left it on some bushes to dry out while we went to find lunch. 

         I wish I could say that I had finally relaxed now that we had landed, but I was still worried about my group and our return trip. Many of us from the group didn’t want to step foot back on that boat. We also knew that if we did return on the boat we still had to get more gas. The small village we arrived in had one small gas station miles from the dock and very few vehicles for a possible ride. To get more gas we would have to carry the empty containers there and back. Even then if we did get all the gas for the return because our trip was 5 hours long we wouldn’t have enough time to get gas and back to the main island before it got dark. After that rough 5 hour ride during daylight there was no way I wanted to go out in those waters at night. 

The next option was to just stay the night and go back the next day. We could all sleep on the floor of the small church building we were visiting. Waiting to leave the next day had its own dilemma our group’s flight back to the mainland of Ecuador was the next day and the day after that was the church group’s flight back to the States. Typically at this time the Galapagos Islands only has two flights in and out for each day. If they missed the flight out of Galapagos they would have to wait for the next day to get back to the mainland.  In turn they would miss their flight back to the States. From my perspective and from various calls to my parents we needed to figure out how to get us off this island today. 

We asked about the little island ferry that takes people back and forth from the main island. We found that it only goes every three days and the last trip was the day before we got there. We knew that wasn’t going to help. Next we asked about the airplane taxes since that would be the quickest route. Sadly the last air taxi had just left the island. We were out of options. As a group we started walking around the little village, many of us praying for guidance. Until the American Pastor thought that maybe we could find a pilot that we could pay to take us to the airport island. Then the local pastor took us to what looked like the house of the pilot. Through translation we asked how much it would cost to give us a ride in his plane.

He gladly accepted 50 dollars per person to fly back to the airport island. In that very moment we were saved!! We did leave behind the captain of the boat sadly. He had to bring back the boat on his own the next day.

Soon we got on the air taxi. It was a smaller plane that held up to maybe 8 people. Flying over these islands was the most beautiful and majestic flight. Looking out over the waters with various colors of blue and green. Seeing the outline of each little island that we probably passed on our way in the boat, but didn’t see because of all the fog and rain. It was a precious time to pray over the people of these islands. I think I finally relaxed on that flight. 

Even though we were on a plane our trip was far from over.  The main airport is on a separate island from the main town and as I said there were only two flights in and out of this airport daily. So when we landed at the airport everything was deserted. Normally there are many buses picking up passengers from the planes and driving them either to their cruise ship docked on this island or to the dock at the end of the island.

As we got off the plane our only option was to walk to the dock where we could cross to the main island, but to our surprise a garbage truck was driving by us. We asked if we could catch a ride. Thankfully it was mostly empty, but the smell still lingered probably on us for a while. We made it to the channel in a matter of minutes. A smelly ride was better than a few miles of walking especially getting close to night fall. At the channel normally during there are tons of boat ferries and taxis that help her cross the small channel. It is key to remember that Galapagos Islands are a protected Ecuadorian National Park so building bridges and structures in the water was against the law. Since all the boat taxi’s captains were gone, we ended up begging a local hotel boat taxi to give us a ride across to the other side. After the quick ride across the channel, we climbed into a truck taxi, a few of the group went up front, but my uncle and I sat in the bed of the truck. For the next two and half hours we traveled over two dead volcanos and some small rain showers, but nothing compared to the hours of rain on a slow moving boat earlier that day. 

Looking back at such a crazy adventure, I still smile because first I’m grateful that we all survived such a scary ordeal, but I also am taken back at how many lessons I continually get from it even today. Never in my life have I ever ridden so many types of taxis, from a boat taxi, truck taxi, and plane taxi, but that garbage truck was a life savior saving us hours of walking. No matter what vehicle we rode in I keep thinking back to how important it was to follow that small dingy boat to the safe harbor. Many times I feel like I’m not good enough to lead someone or be an example of Christ, but it only took a small boat to lead a larger boat safely to shore. I keep reminding myself that in life it is the small habits, the small reactions that can guide my decisions. Sometimes we are the big boat following someone as they guide us on the narrow path and other times we are the small boat guiding others. 

For a 2 hour tour - Part 1

There it was the most picturesque water I had ever seen. A turquoise blue and with white pristine waves crashing into the finest grains of sand. All around me was paradise and I wasn’t enjoying it. I kept telling myself what on earth am I going to do. I had finally left the lunch hut to take a deep breath and talk to God. My uncle came out and said something along the lines, “It is going to be okay! Enjoy it.” But I kept thinking I am responsible for this group of people. I’m the only one that can translate and we have NO way to get back to the main island unless we return back on a half working boat. 

It all started with a supposedly 2 hour tour across the Pacific waters from one Galapagos island to the next. We had just finished a couple days of kids camp with the local church. It was a success even though our water balloon volleyball didn’t last long on lava rock. Our group thought this little boat trip would be a relaxing tour of the islands. 

Little did we know how far off from that picture we were. It was already drizzling as we got on the boat. But that was no problem. We had extra gas for the return trip. It was only two hours I kept telling myself. This trip was to try out the new motor that the church from the states had purchased for them. We still had two motors just one was new and other one a bit old. 

The start of the trip seemed to be going smoothly until my uncle realized that we were taking on water because the old motor was eating up all our gas. The new motor was not suppose to be used in full throttle. My uncle asked me to translate many times but boat lingo was not in my vocabulary. Thankfully my uncle was a skilled fisherman and without even knowing the language did he best to manage take over the motor situation without culturally offending the captain. The pastor from the States was shoving out water that kept creeping in. Myself and the pastor’s daughter weren’t sure what we should do.

The rain was coming down heaver. Not like a storm, but annoyingly miserable. It was foggy enough that it was hard to see land. At the worse of the trip I saw small parts of land that were looked like large fingers sticking out of the water. They were made of rock and for certain did not have a shore to land on. I thought we called for help on the radio, but from the looks of it no one was coming to help us maybe we were closer to our destination, but even so we were running out of gas. My uncle had to move the gas tube from the motors from one reserve gas container to the next. 

When we finally saw land and the sun came out it seemed like miles away. I even crawled into the bow of the boat hoping for rest and prayers or so kind of direction. The smell of gasoline was going to make me vomit like the poor pastor was doing over the side. What should have been a photo moment of dolphins swimming next to our boat only gave me a slight smile, but then back to worry. I just wanted to reach land so badly. I was just a college student at the time. I was suppose to be translating for the pastor, an elder from the church, and my uncle. Nothing in college or life had prepared me for this unlikely adventure.

When we finally reach the bay the tide was out so we knew there was only one path to get to the docks. Another sailor nearby, a foreigner on vacation, pointed for us the direction. Pointing the direction wasn’t enough for our captain. We all knew one wrong turn we would run aground or hit rocks which would damage the boat. Finally another foreigner got into his little dingy and guided us the along the narrow path to port.

The narrow path takes me back to scripture where Jesus says Matthew 7:13-14 ”Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.” There are always Christians that can point in the right direction, but that could lead a new believer aground or hit rocky places. As believers we need to get in our boats and actually lead the lost, guiding them during their journey. How many of us like to go an adventure alone? Not many of us! We usually like a guide that has done the path before to show us the way. It is nice to have a person that can encourage us when we can’t see the next step. As Christ followers we need to show people the way by walking with them. Jesus walked and talked with his disciples. He didn’t just tell them the directions one day and let them do it on their own. Jesus showed them for 3 years before he sent his disciples off to lead others. Thankfully we had a guide in the small boat that took our bigger boat to shore.

Stop! Don't come, Mom!

“Don’t come, MOM!” yelled my four year old daughter. I turned around from my Sunday School curriculum and saw my little girl scurry away from me. I had to investigate, because those words don’t come out of her mouth for no reason at all. As I tried to follow her down the church’s hallway, she turned around and put her hand up to me and said, “Stop.” Then she disappeared into the classroom where she had been eating lunch. As I approached the classroom door, I peered into the window and saw her strategically trying to cover up her spilled chocolate milk with small napkins.

I’ve seen many types of clutter where young ones are trying to clean up their untidiness before the teacher or an adult sees it, but it ends up being too big for them to clean up. They either sweep it under the rug or throw everything into a closet. I, myself, have done the same thing in my own home after everything is left in shambles. I typically turn down help from my husband or friends. I too would say, “Stop, I’ve got it.” But…

Should that be my first response?

Should I turn away help?

I watched my daughter through the door’s window try so vigorously to clean up her spill. Her attempt at cleaning just made the puddle of chocolate milk grow bigger and bigger. She didn’t realize that if she would just ask for my help the clean up would be so much easier. The milk splatter was her mistake no matter how big it was. Her focus was on how not disappoint me and keeping herself out of trouble. That is when it hit me; I do that to God. When I become impulsive and spend more than my budget allows, I don’t ask God for help. Instead I try to fix it myself by doing extra jobs and usually it makes a bigger heap of problems in the long run. 

But God never peers into the window of our lives and says, “I’m disappointed in you.” He actually says, “My child, It’s okay. Let me help you. All you have to do is ask.”

In the end my daughter did finally let me help her clean up, and it took only a few minutes for us to clean it together. It was actually a small spill from my point of view, but an overwhelming one from hers. I wasn’t mad at her. I was thrilled that my daughter invited me into her mess. In Revelation 3:20 Jesus says to the church “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” 

God just wants us to invite him into the turmoil of our lives. Even if I am ashamed and embarrassed of my mistakes, I need to let God in. My daughter taught me an important lesson that day. It is never too late to say to God “Please come in! I need your help.”

"Into the Unknown"

I keep hearing it. The singing. The call ringing out. It just won’t leave my brain. The three title words keep vibrating between my ears. Truly, I should know by now that any song my daughter sings especially ones from any movie called Frozen is bound to get stuck bouncing around in my head. Elsa’s new song “Into the Unknown” is my five year old’s new favorite. Maybe it is the voice calling Elsa or maybe it is the story behind the song that draws my daughter in, but it also draws me in too. 

There have been a lot of songs that my daughter has sung. Most do get caught in my head bouncing around for hours, but none like this one has tugged at my heart so strongly. Yes, I know it is just a Disney movie, you could say. How could something spiritual come from it? But for me those words, Into the Unknown, won’t go away. They keep pulling me in. For days I have been wondering why, why does this song bring me to tears. I know the Holy Spirit is speaking to me, but what is he saying exactly is unclear. 

It wasn’t until I received an email to start the new year from one of the author’s I subscribe to, Margaret Feinberg. She asked for me to pick “One Word” for this year. I knew it immediately, Unknown. I didn’t even have to go through her letter. I didn’t need to pray anymore about choosing one word. I instantly knew the answer because it has been stirring in my heart for weeks. 

What now? I know my word, but what on earth does it mean. Why Unknown? What is going to happen this year that is going to take me into the unknown. That is when I go back to the song. The more I listen to it and read the lyrics I see something more than just a great Disney hit song. I keep imagining the secret siren as the Holy Spirit calling us into the unknown. He never asks us to stay comfortable. He challenges us to step forward into something scary and unknown. Just like Elsa felt the voice calling her grow stronger and stronger until she couldn’t resist it any more. She finally had to leave the comfortable and the familiar to understand her story and her calling. I too need to be willing to follow the voice of the Holy Spirit calling me into something I don’t understand or can fathom. So I am reminded of a famous quote, “If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans.” 

Still I sit here at the beginning on 2020 with this one word echoing over and over again. I don’t know what it means for me, but what I do know is that something is coming and when it does become clear I need to be ready to follow His voice Into the Unknown.