An Unexpected Ending

On Sunday afternoon Adam and I ventured over to the market on the other side of town. He wanted a Rwanda football (soccer) jersey to take with him to university. It was intended to be our last trip to the market before heading state-side.

The market trip was pretty successful. We bargained hard and perused the aisles, looking for things we didn’t really need, just enjoying the smells and sights of that place. I asked Adam if he wanted to drive home. He said yes, I hopped on the back of the scooter/moped, and we began swerving and dodging through traffic.

Should I turn left here? He asked me.

Yes. I shouted through my helmet.

I heard Adam groaning. I opened my eyes and saw the blue sky. He was lying next to me on the side of the road. I was confused. And in a lot of pain. I couldn’t form words, tears flowed uncontrollably down my face. My knee was already three times the size it should be.

50 or more people crowded around us.

Someone pulled the helmets off of our heads.

Adam told me to call Mom. I couldn’t. He took the phone from me. His adrenaline pumping over-time. I remained on the curb, crying. In shock.

I don’t remember the accident, which might actually be a good thing. Adam remembers. And he loves telling stories. Something about colliding with a truck and flying over the handlebars.

We were both scrapped, bleeding, and bruised. My mom came and took me to the hospital for an x-ray of my knee. It’s not broken or fractured.

In case I thought I was going to rush my recovery process, the Lord saw fit to give me a 24-hour stomach bug on Tuesday. On Wednesday morning I woke up with a sore throat which turned into a good old-fashioned cold.

Five days later and the swelling is almost gone, but bending and standing still prove to be too painful. Adam’s swollen elbow is just about back to a normal size too, and if you can look past the gory scabs and bruises, it’s almost like the accident never happened. Crutches and a knee brace have made it feasible for me to start moving around the house and I am improving with each day.

We’re leaving Rwanda in four and a half days. This is the time when we are supposed to be “ending well” – doing all of our last things. Instead, I’m on day five of keeping the couch warm.

I came to Rwanda to heal, emotionally. And now in my last week I sit, in need of healing physically.

I had plenty of things to do this week. I needed to wrap up some projects and there’s this lingering pressure to “end well” with people and Rwanda. How can I possibly end well when I’m lying on a couch?

God allowed the accident to happen. I firmly believe this.

If I was up on my feet this week, running around and doing everything I do, the story would be about me. I would have ended well based on all the things I accomplished.

Instead, I left everything mid-sentence. Loose strings all over the place.

My closure isn’t up to me, it’s up to God. In the past I haven’t ended well. I think that’s because I’ve either avoided it or tried to do it on my own. This time it’s Him because I’m sick, crippled, and incapable of ending well. I need Him to help me leave on good terms and He has already given me peace and closure in special ways.

My phone chimes hourly with text messages and the doorbell rings frequently with friends stopping by. With each person I’m able to connect with, I know that God is accomplishing something big. My heart can rest easy.

On Tuesday, Adam and I will fly from Rwanda to Tampa, Florida with wheelchair assistance. How do you like that? Two young and fit kids rolling into Senior-ville like a couple of old folks.  From there we’ll begin moseying our way up the states. I’m heading back to Minnesota. I’ve missed that place. I’m thankful for the months away but very ready to jump back into my life there. Or, for now, hobble back into life.