The End is Really Just The Beginning

June 16, 2016 / Rachel Sherburne / 26 Comments

On a trip of firsts, this is my first time flying across an ocean solo. And while I feel a twinge of sadness leaving Natalie and Katy in Europe, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God is calling me home.

The flight map displayed on the screen in front of me shows a long green line from Istanbul, Turkey to Atlanta.

I left Spain last night and flew from Rota to Barcelona landing just after midnight. My plan was to sleep in the airport and thanks to a yoga mat, neck pillow and a sleep sheet, it was a pretty impressive make-shift bed (if I say so myself), though still not really comfortable.

I donned my trusty eye mask and earplugs hoping for some good shut eye, but a few hours later I awoke to the sound of voices nearby. At 3:37 a.m. people were already lined up to check in for the 6 a.m. flight from Barcelona to Istanbul.

Despite my casual approach to travel these days, there are many others who clearly take the “arrive two hours prior to an international flight” advice seriously.

Four hours later I was in Turkey. And nearly four hours after that I boarded this flight back to the States. Staring at the world map, it’s hard to comprehend that only a year ago visiting far off places like South America, Australia and Asia seemed like a dream. And now, in just seven months I’ve completely circumnavigated the globe.

Of course, it didn’t happen overnight or effortlessly. It took months of hard work, research, planning and organizing to deconstruct the life I had built in Virginia and handle all of my physical stuff before Natalie and I embarked across the country for a three-month stint in Mexico. We started writing and called our blog, “The Great Enlivening,” because we hoped and believed our journey, wherever it led us, would be just that.

With nothing but a one-way ticket to Buenos Aires, Argentina, a backpack and a two-night hostel reservation, we left America on February 6, 2016, not knowing what exactly this adventure would look like, but confident we were supposed to be on it.

Since then, I’ve visited 15 countries and traveled thousands of miles by dozens of flights, taxi rides, buses, trains and two rental cars. I’ve stayed in countless hostels and hotels and converted currency more times than I care to remember. I’ve gathered an impressive collection of passport stamps, contracted two parasites and improved my language skills as I immersed myself in unique cultures around the world.

I’ve climbed mountains like Machu Picchu…

Gone scuba diving in the Great Barrier Reef…

Enjoyed exquisite food…

A LOT of food…

Practiced yoga like never before…

Served others…

Laughed…

Cried…

Met amazing people from around the world…

Visited with long time friends…

And traveled with two incredible women with whom I not only shared these experiences, but also my heart.

It’s taken me a long time to get here. But I don’t mean 35,000 feet over Port-Cartier, Canada, where I currently am. I mean here.

For the first few months of the trip, I spent a good amount of time looking back at my life. There were unanswered questions I was still wrestling with. Why did my marriage end? What could I or should have I done differently? Where was God’s will in all of this, and how did mine line up with His?

Through lots of prayer, journaling, and hours of heart-to-heart conversations with Natalie, I gained clarity. Sometimes God gave me a fresh perspective and the ability to see things through His eyes. Other times, He encouraged me to consider different questions all together. And on a few occasions I felt Him asking me to let go and accept that there were some questions I might never have concrete answers for (at least on this side of Heaven) and that it was okay. That I would be okay.

During this time, He also brought to my attention several hidden wounds in my heart I didn’t even know were there. God walked me through those too, helping me to heal, grow stronger and open myself up to the possibility of loving again.

Through a completely divine appointment, He even sent a special person to guide me through this process. To this amazing man (you know who you are), thank you for being so genuine and caring with my tender heart. You’ve reminded me that marvelous men exist, that an open heart is a wonderful thing, and that the right man will want to fight for, cherish and protect it.

But during this season, despite some romance, God made it clear that it wasn’t time to be looking for a husband.

It was time to explore the world around me, to “see beyond” what I could see with my eyes. Sometimes it was rethinking my philosophy on life and the expectations I and others have placed on it. Sometimes it was considering the unique ways people live in other places and finding the best practices to adopt from those. But more often than not, it was peering into the eyes and the souls of those I met and discovering that despite differences in age, religion, race and socio-economic status, deep down we are very similar. We’re all human beings on this journey called life and we all share the same innate desire to be loved.

As my focus turned outward, God was birthing something within me: A renewed dream of being an instrument to inspire others to live a truly enlivened life. A desire to become the best version of myself and help others do the same. A longing to follow wherever He may lead and live for His glory.

And God was also helping me synthesize some of the lessons I’d been learning along the way, like:

There’s no such thing as a “normal life” and I don’t want to live one anyway
Sometimes it’s okay and really good to NOT have a plan
Happiness is an inside job
Life is short, an invaluable gift, and at the same time, not that serious
Where I am in the world isn’t nearly as important as who I’m with
Living presently, passionately and loving deeply is the recipe for a beautiful life
Every person has unimaginable potential within

These, of course, are just a few highlights. I could write a book about my experiences traveling the world and how it changed me. How I am physically darker (thanks Spain for the tan) but Spiritually so much lighter. How according to my bank account, I am poorer, and yet, my life is so much richer. How I am still “single” but I have more love in my heart than ever before.

Maybe one day I will write and publish that book, or I’ll be a famous speaker. Perhaps I’ll be a wife and mother. Or maybe I’ll live abroad in a big city, or end up in small town America.

Honestly, I don’t know what my life will look like in one month, much less one year or a decade. But I know that it’s time for me to head home and see my family. God has been whispering that in my heart for several weeks and He finally told me the time is now. That what needed to happen on this trip has prepared me for whatever is to come. That while I’m not still traveling with Natalie and Katy (who are currently loving life in France), this isn’t the end of of the Great Enlivening for me, it’s just the beginning of a new chapter.

I’ve learned living a truly enlivened life doesn’t require exploring foreign countries, but continuing to explore my heart and what God is showing me. That it’s not dependent on where I am but who I am. That it’s not about what I have but what I share with others.

I imagine one day I’ll look back and tell my kids and grandkids about this year of my life. I’ll show them pictures of unbelievable places and recount the story about how I left everything behind to find out what the world had to offer.

But what I want them to understand is that this Great Enlivening ended being much more than a trip around the world. That it was a deeply Spiritual pilgrimage that challenged me to think differently, act differently and love intentionally. And how ultimately, what I ended up finding was not only myself, but how to truly live.

Our Bright Spot In Bangkok

June 1, 2016June 1, 2016 / Rachel Sherburne / 2 Comments

It’s sweltering. Ninety-five degrees with 80% humidity means Natalie, Katy and I are sweating just standing outside. So, when we don our 30-ish pound backpacks and start walking from the train station to our hostel, it’s less than a minute before we’re dripping.

We’ve just flown from Siem Reap, Cambodia to Bangkok, Thailand. Here we have a short 20 hour layover till we head to Madrid, Spain via Moscow in the morning. It’s going to be a long 48-hrs and we’re already tired, but luckily the hostel we booked is nearby.

“The email said it’s close, right across from the station,” Katy tells us.

I’ve learned the word “close” is a relative term when traveling. It could mean five minutes or five miles depending on who you’re talking to. But in this case, luck is on our side and close means about 50 meters.

“That’s it, right there!” I announce, spotting the hostel sign just across the street. Thank God. My back is aching from the backpack, my stomach hurts (thanks to parasite number two on this trip), and I’m starting to feel overheated and nauseous.

We make our way across the street, and before entering the hostel, we remove our shoes. After more than a month in Asia, we’re used to this standard, cultural norm.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t feel much cooler inside than out, but at least we’ve made it and we can take off our packs. After nearly 4 months of international traveling, we’re also used to this standard, travel drill. What used to seem novel and exciting is now easily described in a 13-step process we must complete anytime we change our location from one country to another.

Packing our stuff – this is getting more and more difficult as we buy new clothes, are given gifts and accumulate souvenirs along the way
Checking out of our hostel
Getting to the airport – this could be via taxi, train, walking or (in the case of Cambodia) a motorized buggy also known as a Tuk-Tuk
Checking into our flight – these days we’re so causal about international traveling that we often don’t remember what airline we’re flying on until we arrive at the airport
Going through security – this process varies from country to country but inevitably involves a metal detector, pulling out my laptop from my overly-stuffed daypack, ditching or downing my water and removing my jewelry
Boarding our flight
Flying from Country A to Country B – this could range from a non-stop flight to one with 2 or more stops and can take anywhere from 1 to 20 hours
Going through customs – sometimes this takes 10 minutes, other times an hour. Sometimes the agent is friendly and welcomes you. Sometimes you get grilled about your travel plans or you simply get no eye contact and no response when you “hello,” or “thank you”
Picking up our bags – amazingly not one has been lost or stolen this entire time (knock on wood)
Withdrawing money and converting any foreign currency we no longer need – turns out money exchanges don’t take coins so we all have a wide variety of change from around the globe
Getting to our next hostel (see #3)
Checking into our new hostel – this always includes filling out forms, showing our passports and paying in advance
Unpacking our stuff – much less time consuming than packing but still a mental puzzle as to where to put things since most hostel rooms are small, have multiple bunkbeds and there aren’t any closets or drawers

The routine is far from glamorous and always takes more time and energy to complete than we think it will or want it to. And on this particular day, with the heat and feeling pretty lousy, I’m over it.

I’m wondering if maybe my emotions are indicating that it’s time to wrap up this Great Enlivening. But just as I start daydreaming about a less transient life, one without backpacks, shower shoes and checking for bedbugs, I’m interrupted by a chipper voice behind me.

“Hello and welcome!” says a bright-eyed woman with a broad smile “Please, please, sit down,” she says ushering us over to the table and chairs before rushing to a fridge to get us each a cool bottle of water.

She appears to be a few years older than us, but she’s moving at light speed with lots of energy and even more enthusiasm. In less than five minutes she’s checked us in, settled our individual payments, prepared a special herbal tea for each of us, offered us Thai cookies and shown us a laminated sheet with all the key words and phrases we need to know to navigate this new country.

With keys and the wifi password, we are just about to hoist our bags and climb up the stairs to our room, when she makes one final comment.

“Tonight there is a special Thai market, it’s for locals but very good for you to see….will help you understand more this country. If you want, I go with you.”

She has all the eagerness of a kid on Christmas and there’s no way we can say no. We agree to meet her at 6 p.m. and she’s thrilled.

Once in our room, we can’t stop gushing about how incredibly nice and hospitable this woman is. Fastest check in ever! Free food and drink!? An offer to be our personal tour guide?!? For the record, this is NOT the typical response when checking into a hostel and we’re not entirely sure this woman isn’t some sort of mythical unicorn of sorts.

But her energy was so infectious, her desire to serve so selfless and genuine that it’s a unanimous consensus. Unicorn or not, we love her.

After a brief rest, we venture into the city for a few hours to get lunch and explore a bit. Of course I had to get Pad Thai in Thailand!

We return back to the hostel and at 6 p.m. we head downstairs to meet our escort for the evening. “How long does it take by train to get there?” I ask.

“Oh, you can’t take a train,” she explains, “But I will drive us in my car.”

This woman continues to amaze me. And then I realize that I don’t even know her name.

Over the course of the 20 minute drive, we learn that Ja bought and opened this hostel a year ago because she loves traveling and wants to help those who come to her country. But this isn’t her full-time job, she also works 6 days a week as a pharmacist.

After refusing to let us pay for parking, Ja leads us to the market and through a cacophony of sights, smells, shops and seemingly thousands of people.

Turns out that true Thai markets are pretty cool.

On the outskirts is the only place not packed with people. And apparently you can buy all sorts of stuff…

Like sunglasses available for purchase out of the side of a truck…

Life-size statues of Elvis. Doesn’t Katy look good with the King?

And you can even buy a huge shrimp pillow. Because everyone needs one of those.

The street art was amazing…

And they had some cool old cars too!

After two hours we had fully experienced an authentic Thai market.

“Thank you so much!” I gush as we get out of Ja’s car back at the hostel. “You’re such a lovely host and this has been such a special evening!”

Ja smiles and explains that making her guests feel welcome and giving them a taste of Thailand is her pleasure. And I know it is.

Unfortunately, Natalie missed the market because she wasn’t feeling well, but we all sat down and enjoyed a nice meal in the hostel kitchen. Ja made sure we had everything we needed and wished us well on our travels as we would be leaving early the next morning.

As I laid in bed and reflected on our day, I thought of Ja. How her kindness and generosity had blessed each of us. How meeting and spending time with her had made our day so much brighter and richer.

The truth is, what Ja gave us was much more than tea, cookies, and a tour of a Thai market. What she shared with us was herself and the very best part of it. She shared her joy, her passions, her time, her knowledge, her love, without counting the cost or asking for anything in return.

I know this is what God asks each of us to do. To give the gift of ourselves to others. And I also know that I don’t always do this. Sometimes I’m just selfish or I think I don’t have anything of value to offer anyone else. Sometimes I’m just so consumed with my own agenda and 13-step routine that I fail to notice who’s around me and how I can bless them.

But every now and then I live wholeheartedly. I focus on others. I do what I can to meet their needs. I use my God-given gifts to make their lives better – even if it’s just to make someone laugh or speak an encouraging word. I think of my time with the Cambodian Children’s House of Peace and how pouring into their staff and kids enriched my life in the most beautiful way.

While I hope I had the same effect on them as Ja had on us, I know that when I’m being the best version of myself, I feel really good. I feel fully alive and that my life has deep meaning and purpose.

Nearly four months into this trip, I’ve learned that sometimes what I think will enliven me, does the opposite. And that sometimes what I think will drain me or cost too much is the very thing that enlivens me the most.

I’m not sure I’ll ever see Ja again, but meeting her inspired me. My prayer is that I allow God to use me in the same way as I travel and continue this Great Enlivening.

Lightening Up

May 10, 2016 / Rachel Sherburne / 4 Comments

I know a total of five words in Japanese: Good morning, hello, thank you, yes and no. And yet, I decide that getting my hair cut and colored in a country where I cannot communicate is a good idea.

It all started when Natalie and I went for a much, let me repeat, MUCH needed pedicure. After three months on the road, let’s just say our feet were “rough.” When we could no longer stand their dilapidated condition, we ventured out in search of a nail place.

We walked down the street perpendicular to our hostel in Tokyo, careful to cross at the crosswalk only when the indicator turned green. We’ve learned that abiding by rules and conformity is highly valued in this culture.

Besides not seeing a single person jaywalk in the week I’ve been here, I’ve discovered that the Japanese people don’t show their toes, wear shoes inside or use sunglasses. And they don’t talk loudly, demonstrate any type of aggression or eat and drink in public.

But they do like super advanced toilets that are smarter than some computers…

and they love their bakeries and sweets!

I can’t say I’ve abided by all of these societal norms, especially wearing sunglasses…

…But I’ve tried really hard…especially eating the donuts!

And I’ve really enjoyed learning more about this unique culture, like at the Sumo Food Festival we attended.

Yes, these are whole, fried fish. And no, I did NOT eat them.

Whether it’s little ladies singing and dancing at the festival (check out the video below)…

Experimenting with new foods…

Visiting incredible palaces, temples and shrines…

Or simply experiencing the packed trains and streets…

I can honestly say I’ve never been to any place like this before!

And as luck would have it, in our search for a pedicure, Natalie and I stumbled upon an upscale hair and nail salon a few blocks from our hostel.

There we met, Uto and Kana, a lovely Japanese couple who own and manage the place.

They wowed us with their hospitality and impeccable service despite the difficult language barrier. And can I just say that my feet haven’t looked this good in a LONG time!

Feeling much more feminine with our freshly polished toes, Natalie made a bold leap of faith and decided to schedule a haircut for the next day. After three months without a trim, we both needed a cut, but truth be told, I was waiting to see how her hair turned out before I booked an appointment.

Some 24 hours later, Natalie returned to our hostel with a fabulous new do and it was settled, I was going to do the same.

The next night I went in and after Uto shaped up and finished straightening my hair, in broken English he looked at the top of my head and commented, “High here,” he said, pointing to the 2 inch section of slightly lighter hair growing from my roots. “Dark here,” he said, pointing to the hair a few inches below. “And high here again,” he said, pointing to the remainder of my hair.

I nodded my head and then he looked at me puzzled before asking, “Why?”

The long, back story is that I’ve been going to the same hair stylist, Diana, for the last 11 years. And as I’ve gotten older, this unwanted phenomenon called grey hair has happened upon me. It’s not too bad, mostly in a small patch around the crown of my head and a few stragglers here and there, but enough to be noticeable without treatment. So, for the last few years, I’ve had Diana simply “spot treat” these greys with a little bit of color.

When I left Virginia she sent me off with a small amount of professional hair color – enough for two applications that lasted me right up until January. But by the time I reached Columbia in March, I needed a major touch up. Afraid to try a random boxed color, I went to a salon and had some stylists apply color only on my roots to hide the grey.

Me and my Columbian “dream team” of stylists back in March!

The problem is that when they selected the color, they chose one that matched the end of my hair, not my roots, hence the lighter “ring” around the top of my head.

Uto pulls out a book with swatches of hair colors. “Here is 5,” he says, pointing to the color that matches my roots.

“Here is….uh….9,” he explains, holding the lighter swatch next to the ends of my hair.

With slow English and lots of hand signals, I try to explain about my last dye experience and I think he gets it.

“My hair is just a lot lighter at the ends because of the sun,” I say.

Uto looks at me blankly.

I point up the sky and make motions that are supposed to mimic sun rays coming down from heaven.

“The sun??” he asks incredulously. “No color?”

“Nope, just the sun.”

His mouth drops open. Apparently Japanese hair doesn’t react to sunlight in the same way, and the fact that mine has lightened four shades naturally because of it amazes him.

“Wow!” he exclaims, marveling closely at the strands.

I smile at his enthusiasm and imagine how he’d react if he saw my tan lines. While there are parts of me that are quite fair, thanks to olive skin, I can pick up color easily and the end of each summer the stark contrast makes it look like I’m wearing a white bikini.

“Can you fix it?” I ask tentatively, pointing to the lighter section around my roots.

He nods and we schedule another appointment the following day.

We decide to go with the level 5, darker color as this is what my stylist in Virginia always used. What I failed to remember is that she only applied it to a few strands here and there, not all of my roots, like Uto does.

After a shampoo, he and Kana tag team my hair with two blowdryers while I finish making a list of the top 10 things they need to do and see on their trip to New York City in December.

Once dry, I discover that the usually lightest hair around my face has really soaked up the color.

“You like?” he asks.

“Yes…” I lie before I add, “it’s…so much darker.”

Japanese people are incredibly polite and I don’t want to hurt his feelings. He smiles broadly, beaming with pride.

They polish my hair with the flat iron and by the time we leave, we’re snapping photos and exchanging hugs.

I love the cut and style, but it’s not till the next morning that I really start to have some regret over the color. I’m not used to seeing such dark hair framing my face and after going back and forth for an hour, I decide to return to see if they can add a few highlights in the front.

Uto and Kana are completely understanding and agree to squeeze me in. “I do very fast!” he assures me.

A short while later I’ve got some strategically placed foil and the guarantee that it’ll just be 10 minutes.

But Uto is busy and it’s not till 25 minutes later that he returns to check my hair.

I hear him gasp softly, refold the foil quickly so I can’t see and and immediately go over to mix something together.

This can’t be good, I think to myself.

He has me sit in the shampooing chair and after a wash I can feel and smell him putting something on the front of my hair…no doubt something to darken whatever color my highlights have turned.

Dear God, please don’t let me come out with streaked hair, I pray silently.

As I sit there waiting for the color to take I remember how in my 20’s I used to get highlights regularly and apply self-tanner to mimic what the sun was supposed to do to my body. But it was never quite right. It either didn’t look natural, left me orange or simply smelling funny.

Now in my 30’s I’ve decided to go “natural” (with the exception of hiding some grey hair). I allow the sun to do what only the sun can do – lighten the dark areas and darken the light ones. I like to think it makes me more beautiful, more balanced and healthier.

And then it dawns on me that the same could be said about the “Son.”

When I spend time with Jesus, I am changed for the better. The darkness in my heart is lightened. I become a more beautiful person on the inside and much more balanced and healthy in every sense.

That doesn’t mean that I’m always aware of what needs the light. Kinda like how my darkest hairs are the ones in the back of my head, underneath the surface, sometimes the darkest places in my heart are the ones that aren’t visible to me or others. But God knows they are there and if I give Him permission, he wants to lighten those too.

As it turns out, Uto is able to tone down the highlights to an acceptable level, but I’ve learned my lesson: quick fixes don’t work and nothing can substitute for natural sunlight.

The same can be said about my soul. There’s no special prayer or overnight solution to spiritual health and nothing has the same affect as “Son-light.” It’s only through consistent, intentional time with Jesus that I’ll become the person He created me to be – one who radiates the light of Christ in every single area of her life.

And that’s what I’m committed to and desire the most. After all, in the end, it doesn’t matter one bit what my hair looks like. It matters what my heart looks like.

Up in the Air

April 24, 2016April 24, 2016 / Katy Ryan / 3 Comments

As I fly through the air, I look up and see a blanket of clouds and it takes me back to being a child and my idea of heaven. I thought that when we die we would be up in the clouds enjoying eternity there with God and all of our loved ones.

But seeing this view also makes me think that this is a very small plane, and there are so many possibilities of what may happen during this 2 hour flight from Airlie Beach to Cairns. The day before we departed from a 2-day/2-night sailing trip and now somehow we are flying on a chartered plane.

We never know what each day has to offer and when our last might be. I am in a small 10-seat plane and it easily could have a malfunction or issue as we go through bits of turbulence.

We could have to make an emergency landing or heaven forbid crash. As all of these thoughts run through my head I realize that I want to make every day count, I want to thank God for all my blessings and not live a life in fear.

Hi. I’m Katy. And I joined this Great Enlivening about five weeks ago.

To give you a little background on myself I was born and raised in Montgomery, Alabama. I went to school in Mobile, AL, at a small Jesuit college and then returned to Montgomery and have lived and worked there for over 10 years. I have an amazing family and wonderful friends but I feel there has always been something missing.

I feel like I have lived most of my life in a state of fear, fear of someone not liking me, fear of taking a chance and making a big mistake or even the fear of ending up by myself with no one to share this life with. But as I have gotten older I realized that I have no guarantees in life about how long I will be here; I want to let go of all the fear and do the things I thought were not possible – like traveling the world.

I traveled overseas in the past but never for this extended time or without a plan. Don’t get me wrong, I have not abandoned all caution, there are some things that I know I have to maintain. For example, I am of Irish decent and have fair skin, which requires a good amount of shielding from the sun. I have tried to stay protected but when you are in the water on a sailboat there are not too many shady spots.

As you can guess I left our two-day adventure with a couple of red areas, but that is what aloe is for. We had an amazing time on the Broomstick, the fastest lady in The Whitsunday Islands.

While on the boat we had the opportunity to help sail the ship, go to one of the best beaches in the world, Whitehaven Beach, and snorkel.

But that was not enough for Rachel, Natalie and myself, we decided to take things up a notch and sign up for scuba diving. We were surrounded by the Great Barrier Reef and figured that if we’re here we might as well go for it – go big or go home, right? Then we realized that out of 25 people on the boat we were the only three that signed up.

So when the hour came to board the small inflated raft to take us to the dive boat it started to hit us. We received about 10 minutes worth of instructions, signed our lives away and were suited up with a rather heavy tank of oxygen and told to go overboard. With two practice maneuvers with our instructor, nicknamed “muscles” by our captain Rob, we were swimming out to our dive spot. That’s when fear creeps in, the idea we were about to dive down and not be able to quickly swim back to the surface if we freak out.

Panic sets in and I see Rachel and Natalie discussing the idea of not going 12 meters, lets just go down maybe half that distance. We tell our dive instructor that we are not comfortable with diving far and he agrees to our ideas. Now we just have to actually press the button to deflate our vests and sink into the water. I am not going to lie, I was scared and was not sure how I would react. It took about a good 5-10 minutes for me to relax and actually enjoy being down with the coral and fish. It was a brand new experience being so far from the water surface, I had to remind myself to breath normally, don’t take so many deep breaths and make sure I pop my ears so they don’t explode.

Those may seem like simple tasks, things we do everyday without even a thought, but for me in that instance it was so important and not easily accomplished. If you ask any of us I believe we would say that we enjoyed the experience and are happy we did it, but would we do it again? Not any time soon. But for me this is just one way I am escaping my old life and breaking out, trying to not let the fear rule my decisions and take advantage of all the opportunities God has given to me.

I resurface from my thoughts and once again clouds surround us, I know that all I can do is hope and trust in Charlotte, our pilot, that everything will be clear on the other side and we will emerge to a open blue sky.

Its just like life, we don’t know what tomorrow or the next year will hold but I believe that God has a plan and will see me through. In my life I always associate songs with certain time periods or even specific days. My theme song for this trip is Coldplay’s “Adventure of a Lifetime.” As I listen to it the words speak to me “Everything you want’s a dream away, under this pressure, under this weight we are diamonds taking shape.” I believe that there are so many people that live their lives with dreams that never become reality. I want to make the most of my life and I know that this is where I belong right now. Traveling the world with two amazing women, taking in all different cultures, seeing things I only dreamed of and knowing that I will never be the same.

Presents in Presence

March 25, 2016 / Natalie Hunter / 1 Comment

I take a wobbly step off of the dock and onto the small boat that will take us back from Playa Blanca, Colombia to Cartagena. It’s a pretty simple boat – a few rows of bench seats and the captain’s chair. Rachel and I are both a little sad to leave our Colombian island paradise, but we’re feeling rested, rejuvenated and ready for the next step in this adventure. The boat ride back to Cartagena is supposed to take about an hour, and honestly, I can’t wait!

Not because I love boats… I’m pretty indifferent about boats actually, but because I really appreciate a little quiet time. And as a natural introvert, sometimes I need time alone with my thoughts. Boats, buses and planes are perfect for this. They give me plenty of time to think through whatever happens to be on my mind.

We strap on our life vests and start motoring into the harbor; passing by another island on our way out to sea. Rachel and I jokingly termed this island the “Party Island” – basically because it’s a party island. Yesterday, we kayaked to this island with some new friends that we met at our resort, Francisca and Felipe. When we arrived, we laid on the beach, drank out of coconuts and watched as all the youngins danced to Justin Bieber on boats.

Today, the island looks pretty much the same as we pass by. And in a few moments the “Captain” opens up the throttle and we start flying through the bay into the Caribbean Sea. Even though I’ve been here for a few days the water’s shade of blue-teal still amazes me. It looks so beautiful as it laps against the islands rocky shorelines and sandy coves. I take a deep breath, turn my face to the sun and happily prepare for my hour of quiet time. The Captain quickly shifts the boat into a higher gear and we break away from the coast into the open Sea.

The usual thoughts start filling my mind – what’s going on back in the US? How are my dogs doing? (They’re staying with my Mom in California while we travel internationally) And the classic question – what is my life going to look like when all of this is over?

My mind starts wandering down a few rabbit holes as I ponder these questions, and just as I’m settling in to my thoughts our Captain hits a huge wave at full speed and I fly up out of my seat. Two seconds later I’m hit in the face by a huge spray of salt water. “Wow,” I think to myself, “glad I didn’t shower before we left!” The ride is getting bumpier and bumpier, but I shake it off and try to go back into my reflections. Then we hit another wave. This time the entire boat flies into the air and we’re all sprayed with salt-water. I hear Francisca shriek from the back of the boat. I look at the Captain and to my surprise, he’s not slowing down. In fact, it looks like he’s smiling!

He speeds up even more and barrels into the oncoming waves at full speed. I’m sitting in the front of the boat and I have grab ahold of the railing because I’m legitimately scared that I might be thrown out of this boat. And that’s when I hear it – the sound of Rachel laughing like crazy as the boat bounces from one wave to the next.

I look across the tiny walkway and see her giant smile as she bounces up and down. In this moment, I can’t help but start laughing too. I mean the rate at which we’re hitting these waves is so dangerous that it’s ridiculous! And as I bounce around in my seat, I think, “To hell with my alone time, this is actually pretty fun!”

All of a sudden, I start noticing things I hadn’t seen before. I look across the aisle at Alejandro, an employee of the resort who we’ve gotten to know over the past few days, and I see him starting to chuckle at our reaction to the boat. He’s sporting the uniquely Colombian style of acid-washed jeans, a Tommy Hillfiger T-shirt and huge gold sunglasses. He’s sitting next to another employee of the resort, who is somehow sleeping through this ridiculous boating experience. Next to them is a German couple that do not look amused. In fact, every time we hit a wave I see the wife’s face turn a slightly darker shade of green… yikes.

Then my eyes pan to the shoreline, where I can see the clear blue waters hitting the tan rocks and splashing up into the air. The boat takes a huge turn and my stomach drops as we catch some air and free-fall for a second or two. When we hit the water again, a huge ocean spray coats me, and I’m laughing.

“Remember this…” I think to myself.

We’ve been in South America for nearly six weeks and in a couple of days we’re leaving this continent to head for New Zealand. On our way there we’re meeting our friend Katy who’s decided to take a huge leap of faith and join us. But as exciting as it is to take the next step in this journey, it reminds me that this is only temporary.

So as we pull off of the choppy Sea and into the Cartagena harbor I look around, hoping to imprint every moment in my memory. Because someday soon, life will be different, and I won’t remember the thoughts I pondered during my alone time. I’ll close my eyes and think of the crazy boat ride we took during our amazing trip around the world. I’ll remember of the taste of the salt-water, the sound of the laughter and the look of the queasy Germans across the aisle… then I’ll smile and thank God for every moment.

The Kiss

March 18, 2016March 17, 2016 / Rachel Sherburne / 5 Comments

CAVEAT #1: So, I’ve never been one to kiss and tell, and certainly not in a public forum. And the fact that my parents (among others) read this blog makes me quite averse to writing this at all. But in the spirit of authenticity and sharing my heart, here goes:

It’s 10:30 p.m in Cartagena, Columbia, and Natalie and I are finishing a nice dinner outside in a plaza just off “Bourbon Street.”

As a Louisiana native I know that apart from a few bars and balconies, this street is nothing like its namesake in New Orleans. But being that it’s still 80 degrees with 90% humidity, it does make it feel a bit more like home.

Natalie steps inside the restaurant to use the restroom when an attractive guy about my age approaches the table. He’s the “maroon-shirt guy” that I’ve caught looking at me at least a dozen times over the last hour from across the plaza.

“Do you speak English?” he asks in a broken accent that I can’t quite place. I nod my head yes, inwardly amused that even when it comes to pick-up lines, some questions come first when you are traveling internationally.

“I just had to come over here and say hello,” he begins, “I noticed you earlier and….I….you are really beautiful,” he stumbles.

“Thank you,” I respond with a smile. I have to give the guy credit for his courage and honesty, and I can’t say that I don’t appreciate the compliment.

Small talk ensues for a few minutes as I learn how he is from Portugal and here on business.

His friend/wingman (who must have seen that he hadn’t ‘crashed and burned’) approaches the table as Natalie returns. After brief introductions, they ask to sit down and join us for a drink and we agree.

Meeting new people is one of my favorite things about traveling. I love learning about their lives back home, reason for traveling and hopes and dreams for the future. Plus, it adds a certain level of novelty for Natalie and I who spend just about every waking moment together.

Turns out we hit the random guy jackpot. They are interesting, great conversationalists, nice and funny. Score. We laugh, take turns asking questions and even decide to engage the random hat vendor who approaches our table eager to make a sale. Apparently the guy Natalie is talking to really wants to take home an authentic Colombian sombrero.

We spend the next 15 minutes trying on a plethora of Fadoras, Indiana Jones-ish hats and a few extravagant (and pretty incredible) ones, though Natalie and I make it clear that we are NOT buying anything. Of all the things I need on a round-the-world trip, a huge, Jackie-O statement head-gear piece is definitely not one of them.

We take photos and everything is fun and games until somehow the price is lowered to an unbelievable deal, the guys tell us how amazing we look in the hats and suddenly we are the not-so-proud owners of two, that’s right, TWO, gigantic hats that we have to find place for in our backpacks.

The irony of it all? Everyone BUT the guy who wanted a hat bought one. (This is why I can’t watch QVC or infomercials)

Needless to say, it’s now past midnight and with an eye glance and slight head nod, Natalie and I are in agreement. It’s time to head home. We’re a good ways from our hotel and considering that the streets were eerily empty earlier, when the guys offer to walk us back, we accept. Safety is paramount when traveling as young women and we try to be extremely vigilant – especially at night and with men. These two, I trust and I can tell Natalie does too.

With hats on heads we make our way down Bourbon street in pairs, me and maroon-shirt guy just behind Natalie and his friend.

We’re chatting and laughing like old friends. I’m genuinely enjoying his company until suddenly I realize he’s giving me “the look.” My stomach flips and my pulse quickens, but not in the way I want it to. I glance away immediately as multiple thoughts barrage my mind:

“Was that the look? I think that was look.”

“Oh no, I don’t want him to kiss me! What do I do?”

“Say something, Sherburne. Change the subject or at least make a joke….”

“Shit! Why can’t I think of a joke??”

I’m trying to come up with a way to kill the mood but before I have a millisecond to devise a strategy, he’s somehow found a way to access my face under my enormous hat and his lips are on mine.

SHIT! Abort, retreat, get away!

CAVEAT #2: This is not the first guy to kiss me in South America (sorry, Mom and Dad). And despite my reaction to this experience, let me just say that there have been others that I thoroughly enjoyed.

But in this moment, despite having zero desire to kiss this guy (though he’s perfectly nice and attractive), I let him kiss me. Why? Because I don’t want to embarrass him. Or hurt his feelings.

Yes, I know. In hindsight, this sounds totally lame. And though I claim to no longer need the approval of others, I clearly need to work on my ability to be assertive and speak up when someone crosses a boundary I don’t want them to cross.

CAVEAT #3: I do have boundaries! Despite the fact that it’s 2016, I’m a divorced, 34-year old traveling the world and casual sex is considered normal and often encouraged, that’s not what I’m looking for. (You can breathe easy, Mom and Dad)

So, after I’m free from the kiss I tell this guy that I’m a “Good Catholic girl” and “not going to sleep with him.” My turn to be direct. Thankfully he doesn’t push it any further and we join back with Natalie and his friend who are busy taking ridiculous photos with her new hat.

A few minutes later we are back at our hotel and things end on a friendly, but slightly awkward note as I quickly say goodbye and head inside. Even though I stated my boundaries, I get the feeling he is hoping he can change my mind.

But I’m resolute.

It was my Catholic faith and a “True Love Waits Program” I attended in junior high that convinced me to remain a virgin until I got married and continues to call me to celibacy until I remarry. But it’s also my heart. As much as I’ve enjoyed some South American romance, I know that I want so much more than a kiss on Bourbon Street after midnight with a dude I’ve known less than 2 hours.

I want a real connection with a guy, who, while he might have initially found me beautiful from across the courtyard, finds my personality, heart, and Spirit even more-so when he really gets to know me. I want a relationship with a man who understands and respects my boundaries and knows that a holy, Godly woman is worth the wait. A man who pursues me and my heart second only to Jesus. A man who inspires me to be a better person with his faith, integrity and selflessness. And a man who knows what REAL love is and is ready to share that with someone.

I’m not saying that I expect to find this after a few hours, a first kiss or even on this Great Enlivening. But I know this: if kissing is all I plan on doing before marriage, then I want it to mean something. Maybe that makes me sound old-fashioned. Maybe that means I’ll miss out on some make out sessions. Or maybe, just maybe, it means that the next time a man goes in for a kiss, the heart-pounding and stomach flipping will be a really good thing.

Earnin’ It

March 11, 2016March 11, 2016 / Natalie Hunter / 3 Comments

I look out over the crisp blue of the Caribbean Sea as the cool breeze blows against my skin, and for the first time in a while I feel – healthy, rested and balanced.

I’m sitting on the second floor deck of our hotel’s restaurant in Playa Blanca, Colombia. The view from up here is gorgeous, but every time someone walks by, the entire structure shakes. And it makes me wonder if I’m a few moments away from the entire thing crashing down. But the view is too good to move, so I stay.

We arrived in Cartagena, Colombia a few days ago with no agenda besides relaxation. Which might seem a little crazy, since “world-traveler” isn’t exactly a stressful job description. But in the past five weeks Rachel and I racked up some pretty impressive stats:

We took 12 flights, 3 buses (two of which were overnight), 2 boats and 1 train
We slept in 16 different hotels or hostels
We took 6 cold showers (I didn’t bother counting the hot ones… for some reason they were less memorable)
We met and befriended 31 other world-travelers
We ate the most amazing ceviche on earth (thanks Peru!)
We contracted at least one, possibly two, parasites (thanks Bolivia!)
We saw countless animals including: Llamas, Alpacas, Emus, Deer, Butterflies, Tucans, Rabbits, Donkeys and Flamingos
And, we saw one of the New Seven Wonders of the World

While all of this was amazing, we were craving a little rest and relaxation (and a few days without packing up our backpacks). Cartagena itself is a beautiful city, but everyone we met said that we needed to see the amazing beaches of the Rosario Islands – and they were right. The white-sand, the sparkling teal water and the coral reefs are spectacular.

And that’s the view I’m enjoying now – a beautiful cove near Playa Blanca. We went for a swim this morning and found out that the water feels about as perfect as it looks, and it’s full of adorable little friends.

And though there’s nothing on the agenda for the next few days, I am hoping to accomplish one very, very important task – to even out my tan lines. I know this sounds pretty vain, but please withhold judgment until you see the extent of the damage:

It’s bad.

How did I do this to myself you ask? Well, it all started about a week ago when Rachel and I decided to check an item off of our respective bucket lists and climb Machu Picchu.

There are several ways to access Machu Picchu, ranging from eight-day treks to thirty-minute bus rides. But we opted for the one-day route where you climb from the town of Aguas Calientes up to Machu Picchu. The hike itself takes about an hour and a half, and we trekked nearly five miles and ascended over 1,300 feet on a stone staircase.

There weren’t many other people who chose this option, probably because the climb was… exhausting. But when we reached the top it was totally worth it. Instead of taking the fast track to the end, our sweaty brows and sore, shaky legs proved that we earned it!

But in my hurry to see the ruins, I haphazardly used my sunscreen stick and forgot to rub it in. So now, I’m on the beach in Colombia, looking like a zebra. Or as Rachel puts it, looking like “someone took an eraser to my tan.” Thanks Rach!

Oh well! I’ll have plenty of sun over the next few days to even it out. And the scenery here can’t be beat. Although, getting to this island was no easy task. In fact, there were a few moments when we didn’t know if we would make it at all. Rachel and I booked this hotel yesterday morning, but we neglected to think about the logistics involved with moving ourselves to an island. And unfortunately, we literally missed the boat.

And after a few phone calls with the hotel, they set it up for us to take a truck with four-wheel drive. There is a bridge to this island, but the roads themselves are not really roads. The only car we passed on the drive was stuck in the sand on the beach and I worried that we were about to succumb to the same fate.

Yeah… we’re in a car, and that’s the ocean.

While we drove, I couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty of the sparkling ocean at sunset. It was a really unique, if not slightly dangerous, way to see the island. Luckily, we made it to our hotel about an hour later. And since then we’ve settled in to our few days of a stress-free agenda!

Thinking back on the trip to this beautiful place, I realize that the most memorable moments of our journey happened when we took the path less traveled. The times we chose to climb the mountain rather than take the bus, or drive through the sea rather than sail over it. It may take more time, sweat, and sunburn to do it this way, but in the end – it’s worth it. And that’s a lesson I want to take with me on this Great Enlivening. Well that… and sunscreen.

Water, Wind & Fire

February 26, 2016February 26, 2016 / Natalie Hunter / 3 Comments

“Gracias, buen dia!” I say as I shut the taxi door. I hear his tires roll against the gravel behind me as he heads back down the mountain.

“Ok,” I think to myself, “no turning back now!”

I look around for a sign or something to mark the trailhead, but there’s nothing. There aren’t any people around either. But that’s when I hear it – the sound of rushing water. There’s a stream nearby, and I bet that’s where I can find the trail.

Rachel and I arrived in Ushuaia, Argentina a couple of days ago. It’s the southernmost city in the world and is lovingly (and accurately) referred to as “the end of the earth.”

When we arrived, Rachel mentioned that she wasn’t sure why we came to Ushuaia. But after the first day, she said “I think we’re here for you.” You see, I’ve been carrying a love around in my heart that I just couldn’t shake. And I was ready to let it go. So in true poetic fashion, I tossed a token of that love into the sea, at the end of the earth.

But that’s a story for another day.

Today, I’m hiking. Alone.

Rachel wanted to come with me, but God made it clear that I was supposed to go by myself.

I can’t seem to find the trailhead, so I keep walking towards the sound of rushing water. I push my way through some trees and come into a clearing. I see the stream in front of me, and yes! To my left is the trailhead. Phew.

I put my headphones in and start listening to Ed Sheeran’s “I see fire,” which has been stuck in my head all morning. And now I walk.

The incline is pretty steep. But I guess that makes sense. I am walking up a glacier after all. There are only a few other people on the trail, and as I pass them I give the obligatory “hola” and hope that my accent doesn’t make it too obvious that I’m a foreigner.

Argentina has a heavy European influence, so Rachel and I blend in pretty well here. But we’ve been told more than once that our Spanish sounds very “Mexican.”

The trail is following the stream. Zig-zagging back and forth. Sometimes there’s a bridge to cross the water, and other times I have to navigate the slippery rocks. It’s beautiful. But it doesn’t look much like a glacier.

After twenty minutes of hiking the trail curves away from the stream. And there it is – a giant, snow covered mountain.

I don’t know exactly what I was expecting, but when I thought of climbing a “glacier” I didn’t think it was a mountain. I can see the summit from here, and it’s at least 1,000 feet above where I’m standing. I take a deep breath and say, “ok, let’s do this.”

As I walk, the terrain below my feet changes. First it’s gravel, then mud, then snow.

I’ve been walking for about an hour now, and I need a break. As I gaze up ahead, I see a curve in the trail and a boulder that looks like a perfect chair. I sit down and take a drink. I can feel the chill of the water making its way through my hot chest. And then, for the first time on this hike, I look back at where I came from.

“Wow,” I say as I look down at the harbor below. My eyes lift and I see the mountain walls to the left and right. I feel a sense of awe wash over me as I realize that water and ice cut through this mountain and changed it forever. I don’t think I appreciated the power that water holds until this very moment.

I pull my rain jacket and hat out of my backpack and put them on. The higher I climb, the colder it’s getting.

I start walking again, and the trail is getting steeper. I need to slow my roll or I might slip. I’m thinking more about water, and my mind drifts to the other elements – air and fire.

They’re powerful in their own rights. Air gives life to everything on the earth and fire clears away the dead to make way for the new. I laugh at myself a little as I think “hiking always puts me in a tree-hugging mood.”

And then, two hours after I started, I’m here. The summit. “I can’t believe I’m on top of a glacier!” I say excitedly.

I look around at the land below me, the rocks, the snow, and the grass in the distance. I think about the earth and realize that all of the elements impact it. Water changes the terrain, fire burns the brush, and air breathes life into the plants and animals. The earth is at the mercy of these elements. And for a moment, that doesn’t seem fair. Floods, fires and windstorms are traumatic and dangerous. Why does the earth just have to sit there and take it?

But that’s when I realize, that without all of that trauma, this beautiful place wouldn’t exist. There would be no flowing stream, no lush green grass, no snowy mountain top.

When this thought crosses my mind, tears fill my eyes. This is exactly what God is doing with me. I’m like the earth. By letting me experience pain, heartache and trauma, He’s changed the landscape of my soul forever. And he’s turning it into something more beautiful than before.

I take one final look around at the amazing view and smile. I guess we did come to Ushuaia for me after all. I needed to let something go, so that God could show me something new – how he’s using everything for my good, and transforming me into the beautiful woman I’m meant to be.

Little Love Stories

February 19, 2016February 19, 2016 / Natalie Hunter / 12 Comments

Ever since we arrived in Buenos Aires, my mind has been churning, turning and burning with thoughts on one topic – love.

Maybe this has something to do with being single on Valentine’s Day. Or perhaps it’s because I’m still finding my way through recent heartache. Or maybe it’s because couples in Buenos Aires spontaneously burst into make-out sessions ALL the time, all over the city. Seriously.

Whatever the reason, the topic of love is at the forefront of my mind. Yet, when I think about “love” I tend to think of romance. And while romance is a beautiful facet of love, it’s not the whole picture. So in an effort to change my perspective, I decided to glance back at my Valentines week through a new lens. And I found some unexpected little love stories:

1) Elly’s Emergency

When we first arrived in Buenos Aires, we stayed at a hostel in the Palermo neighborhood. The location was great – close to restaurants, museums, nightlife, etc. But let’s just say that staying in a hostel in your thirties leaves something to be desired. Our room was approximately 45 square feet, sans air-conditioning (in 90 degree heat) and our continental breakfast included Cocoa Puffs.

Most of the other guests were in their early twenties and traveling on a shoestring budget. So after the first day, Rachel and I assumed we weren’t going to meet anyone who we felt a connection with. But that’s when we met Elly.

Elly is a fellow 30-something from Iran who’s taking a travel break before returning to Spain to finish her doctorate. Within minutes, we were all talking like old friends. But soon after we met, it was time to go our separate ways. Elly was heading to the Argentinian countryside for a few days, and Rachel and I were off to explore the city.

As Elly walked out the door I said “Hey, we’re getting an apartment, so when you get back on Friday, just let us know if you need a place to stay!”

“Ok, thanks!” She said.

And quickly I wondered if that was a really odd thing to offer to someone who I just met thirty minutes ago… “Oh well,” I thought to myself, “it’s nice to be nice!”

Rachel and I spent the next few days taking in the urban skyline, the expansive green spaces and the tree-lined streets that make up Buenos Aires.

There’s something about this city is completely energizing. We spent every night staying up later than we have in years. But after a few nights of that, it was time to catch up on our sleep.

So Friday night around 1AM, Rachel woke me up with a panicked voice. “Elly just messaged me. The hostel lost her reservation. She’s called a bunch of others but nobody has any availability!”

Yikes. The thought of being alone in a foreign country, in the middle of the night, with nowhere to stay is seriously scary, especially when you’re a young woman traveling by yourself. Oh yeah, and it was pouring down rain.

“Oh no… Tell her to come here!” I said groggily. Rachel agreed and sent her a message with our address inviting her over.

I started looking through closets to procure extra blankets and pillows. I found some and brought them into the living room. Rachel was standing by the couch, where she turned to me and said, “this couch is tiny! There’s no way she can sleep on this.”

I tried to lie down on the couch and had to prop my feet up on the armrest in order to fit. “Yep,” I said “way too small.”

So after a quick brainstorm we decide to create a makeshift bed on our living room floor out of yoga mats, blankets and throw pillows. We did this while we’re waiting for Elly to arrive. But after thirty minutes, she still wasn’t there, and we hadn’t heard from her

That’s one of the problems with international travel; you’re completely dependent on Wi-Fi to communicate. So there are periods of time when you’re completely out of touch.

But at this point, it’s about 2:30AM and we’re really worried. It’s late and she’s alone. So we did the only thing we could do at that point – we prayed. We prayed for her safety, and that God would quickly deliver her to her destination.

Just as we finish the prayer, my phone dinged with a text message, “Hey! I found a hostel with availability on my way over. Thanks for the offer, so sorry to keep you guys up!”

2) Ross da Boss

Ten days ago, we knew exactly one person in Buenos Aires – Ross. And we hadn’t even met him yet.

Ross is a friend of my good friends Megan and Jonathan. He’s an American who lives and works in Buenos Aires. And before we arrived, I linked up with him on Whatsapp. Which is apparently the only way that hip, young people connect these days.

He sent us tons of recommendations and information about how to spend our time in Buenos Aires. And he even offered to meet us and show us around the Recoleta neighborhood.

And as it turns out – Ross is awesome!

We all hit it off and ended up hanging out a few more times. On our last free day in Buenos Aires, we planned to meet Ross at the National Cathedral, before walking through the San Telmo Market.

So when Rachel and I got a taxi that morning, we told the driver to take us to “San Telmo” and assumed that the cathedral would be nearby. How big can one market be?

Huge.

The driver dropped us off at the opposite end of the market, and since we’re Wi-Fi dependent, we had no way to let Ross know that we were going to be late! So Rachel and I booked it to the other end of the market; which was at least two miles away.

We showed up at the Cathedral 45 minutes late, and luckily, there was Ross! He looked relieved and said, “Hey! I was getting worried about you two!”

So after many apologies and jokes about our inability to navigate the city, we walked through the market together.

3 – The Albino Bat

One of the perks of visiting Buenos Aires is its location. It’s perched right along the river’s mouth and on the Atlantic Ocean; which means it’s a one-hour ferry ride from Uruguay. We heard that Colonia, Uruguay is beautiful and since we’re eager to get as many stamps in our passports as possible, we decided to go!

When we arrived in Colonia, we found that the town was cute, but boring, and incredibly hot (97 degrees). And we were stuck there for eight hours waiting on our return ferry. Ugh.

The only thing to do in Colonia is walk. So we walked… and then walked some more. And as we walked, I said a silent prayer about our next steps on this journey. I knew with all certainty that God told us to go to Buenos Aires. I could feel it when we arrived. Everything about the city felt right.

But where to next? Our apartment rental would be up in a few days, and though we had some ideas about where to go, nothing felt certain.

We were thinking about heading to Iguazu Falls since, while we were in Mexico, Rachel had a vivid vision of a waterfall during yoga. But I was feeling unsure, so as we continued walking, I asked God to give me some confirmation about our next steps.

Just then, I turned my head back to the path in front of me and I saw a huge, white, winged creature flying directly towards my forehead. It came so close to me that I had to jump out of it’s flight path. That’s when I realized that it wasn’t an albino bat (my first guess) but the largest white butterfly I’d ever seen. In fact, it’s the only white butterfly I’ve seen since we arrived in South America.

“That was weird!” I say to Rachel, as the butterfly heads off into the distance.

We walk to the church in the main square of Colonia to spend a little time in prayer and shade. But as I’m praying, my mind keeps drifting back to the butterfly. It’s all I can think about. So once we find Wi-Fi access, I Google South American butterflies and learn that Iguazu Falls is one of the largest natural butterfly preserves in the world.

I smile to myself and say “Touché Lord. I guess we’re headed to Igauzu!”

Ok, I know what you’re thinking… where is she going with this? So here’s the point –

At first glance, these stories seem little… almost insignificant. There’s nothing earth shattering about them. But that’s just it – love is quality, not quantity. Love is opening your home to someone you’ve only known for thirty minutes – no questions asked. It’s waiting for 45 minutes in 97-degree heat for a couple of girls you barely know. And it’s having the faith that God will lead you to exactly where you’re supposed to be.

Love is giving, receiving and believing. It’s actions, not words. It’s shown through grandiose gestures or seemingly insignificant acts of kindness – but it’s all love. It can be palpable, or go completely unnoticed. But the result of loving isn’t the important part – the act of loving is what matters. And sometimes, I forget that. So when I look back at my Valentines week, I can see that I was surrounded by love the whole time, it just looked a little different than I’m used to.

Pack it Up, Pack it In, Let me Begin…

February 4, 2016 / Natalie Hunter / 12 Comments

“That’s not a lot of clothes for six months…” I say as I look at the apparel laid out on my bed. And it’s true. When this journey started, I had a hard enough time pairing my clothes down to three suitcases, and one (giant) duffel bag full of shoes! Now, I’m trying to fit everything I need for the next six months into one backpack. Yikes.

The Great Enlivening began in October and continued as we headed to Baja California, Mexico for three months. Now, four months in to the journey, it’s time for the next phase. And after much prayer and consideration, we still don’t know exactly what this season will look like.

Sure, we could take out our travel bucket-lists of all the places we’ve ever wanted to go, and plan our journey that way. But this is a journey by faith. Which means that we’re letting God lead us to where we’re supposed to go.

“How on earth are we supposed to pack for this?” I ask Rachel, who’s packing her bag in the next room.

She walks in to my room and says “Well, I guess we just have to be ready for anything!”

As it turns out, this is no easy task. Every item needs to have multiple purposes. I need to sleep, workout and go-out in as many combinations of these clothes as possible. Oh yeah, and it all needs to be wrinkle free… which pretty much means that Rayon/Spandex blends are my new love.

So here’s what made the list:

The clothes:

Tank tops (x5)
Short Sleeve Tops (x2)
Long Sleeve Shirt (x1)
Dresses (x3)
Sports Bras (x2)
Convertible all-in one bra (x1)
Undies (x7)
Bathing Suit (x1)
Long Black Pants (x2)
Capri Black Pants (x1)
Black Shorts (x1)
Black Skirt (x1)
Jeans (x1)
Chambray Top (x1)
Rain Jacket (x1)
Khaki Jacket (x1)
Scarf (x1)
Cardigan Sweater (x2)
Baseball Cap
Beanie
Gloves
Scarf
Shoes:
- Gray Flats
- Running Shoes
- Flip Flops (aka – hostel shower shoes, ick!)
- Sandals

The “Practical & Pragmatic” Items:

Safety Whistle (because you can’t bring mace on a plane)
Tiny Flashlight
Eye Mask / Ear Plugs
Sleep Sack (bed-bug proof!)
Spork (yes, a spork)
Drain Stopper (I fear I’ll be doing a lot of laundry in the sink)
Laundry Soap Sheets (for all of my sink laundry…)
Door Stopper (for those lovely hostels without locks on the doors!)
Electronic Adapter Kit
iPhone Camera Lenses
Laptop & Charger (we are writing a blog after all…)
iPhone & Charger
Toiletries (so I’m clean)
Deck of cards (so I can win friends and influence people)

And finally, the “Don’t Judge Me” items:

Hair Straightener (just because I’m living like a vagabond, doesn’t mean I have to look like one!)
Kate Spade Purse (see hair straightener comment)
Yoga Mat (I’m addicted now, I need this)
Neck Pillow (I’m pillow-particular. Like I said, don’t judge me.)
Selfie Stick (for all my selfies…)

Amazingly, all of this fits in one 45-liter backpack and a 15-liter daypack. When it’s all said and done it weighs about 28 pounds. It’s not light, but hey, it could be worse!

As our time in Mexico started drawing to an end, Rachel felt convicted to pray about where we should go next. And she was quickly led to research information about Argentina. Soon after that, the two of us were diligently typing away on our laptops, researching everything from Antarctic Penguins to Zika Virus.

“Man, Argentina is far-away!” I lament, as I looked at the twenty-four hour flight times. “And it’s really expensive to get there…” since every one-way ticket I can find costs somewhere between $1,100 and $1,200.

“Wait a minute!” Rachel exclaims, “What day did we want to leave?”

“February 6^th” I say.

“Well I don’t know why this one is so cheap, but I think we should book it!” She says as she points to her computer screen. I look over and see that it lists a price of $599 for a flight from San Diego, California to Buenos Aires, Argentina.

“Definitely! Let’s book it.” I start typing and I pull up the same website. I enter the search terms exactly as Rachel has them listed and I get… nothing. So I try it again, maybe I entered something incorrectly. But after typing in my parameters a second time, I’m left staring at a screen that reads “$1,100, $1,199, $1,205, etc.”

After a few more tries, I clear my cookies and somehow keep getting the same results! I look at Rachel and ask “what the heck is happening here?” She laughs and says, “I have no idea!”

I think back to how Rachel was prompted to pray for our trip and how God told her to research Argentina, and it all starts to make sense. I’m not saying that God is behind the technical workings of Kayak.com, but… he kind of is. And by listening to his prompting, Rachel was able to book two tickets for us, at the price of one!

A few minutes later we’re busy planning our time in Argentina. We are a couple of type-A’s after all. But the more we plan, the more our plans just don’t work out. In fact, we even booked a couple of flights from Buenos Aires to Ushuaia, Argentina that were cancelled by the airline as quickly as they were booked.

I start to feel a little frustrated and wonder if we really are supposed to go to Argentina, or if somehow we got our signals crossed. When I get a subtle reminder during our Morning Prayer time – “Stop trying to put this in a box.”

This is a reminder that God gives me fairly often. It means, “stop trying to look at this in a way that makes sense based on your experience and perspective.” You see… I’m a problem solver. If I know the end-goal, my mind will start meticulously working through every scenario that could help me achieve it. But with God, we don’t always get to know the end goal. And if He tells me to go to Argentina without a plan, then I’m supposed to go, no questions asked.

This is SO much easier said than done. I’ve built my life inside carefully crafted boundaries that keep me safe and secure – financially, emotionally and physically. Boundaries are great that way; they’re designed to keep us safe. But sometimes, we become so comfortable living inside our risk-adjusted boxes, that we never leave them.

That’s where I found myself a few years ago, stuck inside the box of my life. And though it was calm and cozy, something was missing. My heart was craving adventure, inspiration and novelty. And those things just can’t be found by staying inside the lines.

So in an effort to continue growing and becoming the person I wish to become, I decided to fully embrace the ambiguity of the next several months of my life – starting with Argentina. On Saturday, Rachel and I leave for Buenos Aires with nothing more than a backpack, a one-way ticket and a three-day hostel reservation. And though it doesn’t exactly feel cozy and comfortable, everything about it feels right.

PS – Mad props to the ‘House of Pain’ for my title… it’s a classic.

Some content on this page was disabled on April 23, 2018 as a result of a DMCA takedown notice from Summer Adams. You can learn more about the DMCA here:

https://en.support.wordpress.com/copyright-and-the-dmca/