I have found that fight or flight, in some seasons of our lives, is a daily choice.
Because of the petrol shortage, we must walk to school every day. We could drive our car if we wanted to wait in line with the thousands of cars in Kathmandu with no promise of receiving our small ration. Ain’t nobody got time fo’ that!
The first couple weeks, it was kind of fun. Some sort of new adventure. After all, we kinda thrive on crazy around here. But after a holiday break, returning to an hour and a half of walking the hills of Nepal was hard to face. By Friday, I was thinking, “This lifestyle is just not sustainable.” But given the option between riding on TOP of a bus (a common sighting these days, though previously illegal), I guess I’ll take the sore feet and sunburn. Fight.
Not many Americans, would argue that this life of walking to school and cooking for our family on a hot plate (there is also a propane shortage) in between power cuts is challenging. Soon, it will become very cold, and without propane, it will be nearly impossible to warm our home.
My kids already look like eskimos going to bed! My poor daughter won’t be able to take a bathroom break for all the layers. We will be getting creative with hot water bottles and whatever else we can get our hands on…or over. I’ve warmed my hands over the toaster. I am not ashamed. Fight.
Though, at times, everything inside of me says, “This is too hard. Give up.” I can’t. This wild place has my heart. I know only God could do that. When faced with the possibility of having to leave due to the difficulties, I am heartbroken. I want to fight.
In natural disasters. Fight.
In political upheaval. Fight.
In shortages. Fight.
In family trials. Fight.
And if I fly, I pray I fly only to the feet of Jesus. Only He can give me the power and grace to stay in the fight. To drag my feet up the steep hill home. Because Lord knows I’m about to fall flat.
But I will fight…
I would love to hear your experiences in the comment section below!