Tragedy Stikes

April 15th, 2013

                My heart is beating in my heart, but I can hear it in my ears.  I can’t help but think due to my nursing classes, “Would I be running to tell the charge nurse that this persons heart beat is way out of wack!?”  Nerves overwhelm me, though I love flying I still have airport anxiety.  I am thankful for a God who knows the deepest of my fears and joys and is able to provide me with relief as soon as I find myself settled in on the plane between two nice strangers. 

             Relief was almost what I felt, or at was what had been expected. One of the men leaned in and whispered to me.  His accent was thick, but even then I heard the words clear as day.  My instinct leaped as I loudly said, “Bomb!?” He hushed me quickly though, as to not alarm those near by.   

“Two bombs were dropped right below us in Boston at the marathon.  Terrorist attack, maybe.”  

As I looked around I was panicked for those around me.  Maybe the man next to me just said goodbye to his wife who was running in the marathon below? No one is aware of the bombs that were dropped right below our feet.

           After an hour of squirming in my seat, finding no comfortable position I finally gave in and dug into an amazing book.  Here it what I read: 

            “I have often wondered since reentering the United States why I feel such great culture shock.           How can I feel such a disconnect with the place I was born, raised and for eighteen years called home?  

How can I feel that my real home is a place in which I have spent just over a year? I have blamed it on many things.  

American extravagance.  

The grocery store that almost sends me into panic mode due to the sheer quality and variety of foods. 

People who build million-dollar homes. 

The lack of understanding and a lack of thanksgiving on the part of all of us.  

The ease with which we receive medical care. 

The amount of stuff that just clutters our lives. 

All these things make it difficult to re-adjust, yes.  

But what has been the biggest shock to my system, the huge disconnect, is that I have stepped out of my reliance on God to meet my needs.  

I “miss” Jesus.  He hasn’t disappeared, of course, but I feel so far from Him because my life is actually functioning without Him.  By “functioning,” I mean that if I am sick, I go to the drug store or to the doctor. 

If I am hungry, I go to the grocery store. 

If I need to go somewhere, I get into my car.  When I need some advice...  

              At the end of the flight an announcement was made about the recent “Tragedy that struck Boston.”  Everyone around grew anxious, reaching for their phones to call loved ones, checking the news for updates and some even holding back tears.  

              This “stranger” whom I never had the chance to exchange names with I found to be from South Africa.  He recently had traveled to Nicaragua for surfing and was on his way home for work.  

As him and I scrolled together through pictures of the scene both holding back tears it dawned on me the message I read from the novel Kisses from Katie was directly linked. 

                At 28,000 feet in the air there was no way any of us would have been of any help to what was going on.  Our recourses for the time being was cut, we were unable to communicate with those back home and as we flew the only action we could take was to actively participate in prayer.

So often we run to our recourses that we are so very blessed to have.  

Seat 29B- American Airlines,

Miama to San Jose.  

            A whirl wind of re-circulated air is currently blowing in my face as the sound of a lound engines echoes in my ear.  Besides this all else is seemingly quite.  The awkwardness of airplanes, and the anxious of what lies ahead all crammed into one confined area.   I am crammed between two people, thankfully two people I know well.  As I look around a sea of different colored faces stare back.  Some smile, while others simply stare, then of course there are the few fortunate ones who are blessed enough to sleep anywhere.   

           Two more hours I will be stepping into the land of Costa Rica, the sweet soil still knew to me.  Customs awaits us, the questioning, retrieving of our bags and the soon to be over whelming embraces of hugs from Stevo, Rodney and Sidney.  I can not wait to breath in the air of Los Anonos. There is a uniqueness to the air there, a sweetness to it, yet a freshness that brings new life and when the wind blows gently blows away the old. 

12:30 pm: 

             We arrived at home,  whoops- at Rodney and Cindy’s.  Tito met us, no other ticos were there.  I met Shannon, one of the new interns. She’s been at the house around 10 months and it was her whom I’d be rooming with for the week! 

             The first night we were able to talk a little, and one thing is for certain. We both agreed it was God who set us up as roomies.  Considering the transition time I’m in in my life, a year left of school, praying on where it is God wants me.  Is it college, a mission trip, or so on?  Last trip I was called into CNA and now a week from when I return I am taking my CNA exam.  Shannon was excited to tell me that she herself just that day had been accepted into her local community college for nursing.  We talked ourselves to sleep, both visiblly excited to see what God has in store for the days to come.