Glory in the Scars (Glory Series pt. 3)

July 1, 2022

Day 2 in Nicaragua, not to sound dramatic, but I almost died. 

Let me back up a bit… In my last blog, I recapped squad-leading in Costa Rica for the month of June. At the end of their trip, the squad headed back to the US and I stayed to go to Nicaragua on my own. I hopped on a bus from Nicoya, Costa Rica, and drove up to Granada, Nicaragua to spend a month with one of my favorite ministries, REAP. I was excited for my first solo international travel!

After a few hiccups with the bus and a 3-hour wait at the border crossing, I arrived at REAP late in the evening to find out my host was taking me, 3 other American women who are serving at the ministry, his wife, and his daughter to a condo on the beach the next day. We planned to stay for several days to enjoy the beautiful beach, fellowship together, and rest. I’m learning that whenever I think a restful season is coming up, I should probably go ahead and prepare for the opposite… 

We woke up Friday morning, enjoyed some personal time, went for a walk, ate a delicious breakfast complete with dragon fruit smoothies, and headed outside to enjoy the sunshine before the tropical storm hit. I read and hung out with Elena and Grace at the pools, then decided to go for a walk on the beach. 

As I walked, I took pictures of the unique sea urchins and fish in the rocky tide pools. It was so beautiful! I remember being filled with admiration for God and His creation. I turned to start walking back. The next thing I knew, I was falling. 

My first thought as I fell was, “How is this possibly happening?” That was quickly followed by, “I’m going to die and no one knows where I am… What about my family?” Finally, “God, help me!”

Having been hit by a massive wave, I had fallen into the water and was sucked into a cave beneath the rocks I had just been walking on. Everything went black. Completely out of control, I was thrashed against the rocks underwater. It felt like being inside a washing machine. At one point, I saw light and the tide washed me out just long enough to get a breath of air before pulling me back in to the dark cave.

When the next wave pushed me out into the ocean again, I was able to swim far enough away from the rocks to avoid getting sucked in again. Somehow still clutching my remaining Chaco (I really loved that pair…RIP), sunglasses, and phone, I swam around the curve of the shore and flagged down some surfers. A father and son came to my rescue. They helped me onto a board and got me back to the beach at a safe spot.

As I walked in the waist-deep water, I was shaking so badly that I dropped my phone. I searched for a bit, but to no avail. I was too scraped up to continue for long. (Sorry to everyone I never responded to for the following couple of weeks!)

I walked inside the condo and asked my host’s wife for a first aid kit. She and her daughter went to get medical supplies while I showered. As I looked in the mirror and saw the scrapes from my shoulders to my feet, a panic attack hit. I shook and could barely breathe. I realized it was a miracle not only that I was alive, but also that didn’t hit my head, break, or cut anything deeply enough for stitches. Thankfully, Grace was a nurse and kindly helped bandage me up and care for me throughout the healing process. 

The following weeks were painful as my body healed, but I experienced so much love throughout it. My friends at REAP, and even random strangers on the street, were so kind and caring as I limped around. It forced me to slow down more and sit with people instead of the constant busyness I tend towards. My obvious wounds became an easy conversation starter and connection point with many people I probably wouldn’t have even talked to otherwise. There was beauty in the pain. 

Sooo yeah, my first solo international trip didn’t exactly end up being the month of rest I had hoped for. Yet, looking back, it was good. My body bears the marks of that terrifying day, but even in the scars, God gets the glory. They serve as a physical reminder to me of the valuable things I learned…

I look at them and remember the miraculous mercy of God, not only in that moment near death, but every moment that I get to live, breathe, and walk this earth as His daughter. They remind me that there are opportunities to love and be loved all around, even when a hard situation seems to limit me. They make me question frequently, “Why am I still alive? How can I live well?” They fill me with a greater desire to live out the gift of every single day fully for His glory. 

Oh, and maybe don’t walk on the edge of rocks on a beach right before a tropical storm… 😉