Home Sweet Home

I can not believe that one week ago today I boarded a plane in Bolivia and made my way back to the States! I feel like I've packed in a summer's worth of adventures in the past week alone, not to mention all of the adventures I had the previous three weeks in Bolivia!

From Bolivia to Miami, and from Miami to Baltimore. I sat by a sweet older couple, and when I told the woman that I was just coming back from a mission's trip in Bolivia, she hit her husband and said, "Listen to this! She was just on a mission's trip in Bolivia!" Then she turned to me and continued, "Now, tell us again!" So sweet.

In Maryland I got to take part in this girl's wedding! So blessed that I was able to share in such a special day with Jesse and Kelly Burgin!

But the wedding was just the beginning of my long, drawn out adventure to get home. I was dropped off at the Baltimore Airport at 10:45pm to spend the night - the beauty of having a flight scheduled for 6:40 the following morning. I felt like I was trapped in a bad comedy, because NO ONE was at any of the airline luggage check-in desks. I was finally in a place where I could more easily communicate with people, but no one was around to pose my questions to. I felt like a lost puppy. I eventually tucked myself in a back hallway I discovered with some chairs, propped my luggage and backpack around me, and tried to get some sleep. I'm lucky if I got a full half hour. I read my book off and on. This would be an experience to remember, for sure, and laugh about one day. Airport security and cleaning crew persons made their rounds, and I felt their awkward stares every time they passed. Finally, around 4:30am I went to check on the status of luggage check-in. What do ya know, people were there! I was in a functional airport! I checked my baggage, went through security, found my gate, grabbed a cup of coffee, munched on a granola bar, and did my devotion as I waited for my flight. At 6:10am I boarded my plane, eagerly awaiting my 6:40 departure and the promise of seeing my family.

But, due to the adventurous and unexpected nature of my travels, this was not to be. 6:40 rolled around, and the pilot came over the speakers to inform us that there was a problem with the air system in the cockpit and they'd have to reset it. A maintenance issue that could take up to an hour. I tried not to panic. Everyone on the plane was getting antsy and was clearly frustrated. I prayed over the plane, and for the mechanics, and for peace for the travelers. I joked around with the couple sitting next to me, although I'm not sure I made much sense on the little amount of sleep I had.

Finally, at 8:10, our plane took off. Our pilot estimated a 50 minute flight. My connecting flight in Charlotte was scheduled for 9:40. Perfect! No need to worry. We'd be there in plenty of time. We landed about 9:05, and I breathed easier. Until we taxied. And taxied. And then we were informed that they didn't have a gate for us. The minutes ticked by. Every passenger with a connecting flight got more anxious. I tried to keep a level head, although I was ready to volunteer to run across the tarmac. "I'm just trying to get to Indy to say goodbye to my brother!" I wanted to shout to the airline, or whoever would listen. He was preparing to leave for Hawaii to be stationed there for the next four years in the Navy. I had a very short window of opportunity to make it to Indy to see him for the first time in almost a year. Panic was rising.

At 9:35, we pulled into a gate. The couple sitting next to me plotted, "All right, he's going to grab your bag for you, and then we'll block the aisle for you so you can run." Sitting in the fifth row came in handy then. Seatbelt sign went off, and everyone made a mad dash for their bags. I got my bag, and then the couple shouted, "Go!" I hurried off the plane into the long hallway. A gentleman pulling his luggage in front of me stepped to the side and yelled, "Run!" I did. My next gate was two away from the gate I was exiting, so I rushed to my next gate. The operator looked up at me and said, "The flight already left." It was 9:38. I was in shock. I fought to hold back tears as the lady at the desk printed me a new ticket for the 11:30 flight to Indy. And then I went to the bathroom. And yes, I cried. I wish I could say I laughed it off, and composed myself like a well put-together young lady who's used to things not going her way when it comes to travel. I did not. I texted my family of my flight change, and then put my phone away. I couldn't accept or handle pity, or sympathy, or encouragement. I was exhausted, and sick, and I had missed my flight. I thought of James 1:2 that told me to "consider it pure joy when you face trials of many kinds."

I did not consider this pure joy.

I eventually pulled myself together, found my next gate, read my book, fought back more tears, rested my eyes, listened to music on my iPod, and chatted with God. I was not feeling very lovable in that moment.

After all of that, everything else went off without a hitch. I arrived in Indianapolis at 1:10 and went to collect my bag at baggage claim. My family was coming to meet me at the airport for lunch, before we'd all head our separate ways. I had made it, but just barely. As I was waiting for my bag, I saw my brother across the way. I called out, "Caleb!" He came over to greet me. I grabbed my bag off the carousel, and he asked, "You ready to grab some lunch?" I shook my head...and lost it again. I was so happy to see him, but I was so overwhelmed. It was quite the long and exhausting journey to make it there. He hugged me, and I choked back tears. I pulled myself together, and we went to see the rest of my family. More tears. But I had made it! Lunch went by too quickly, as time often does, and we all said our goodbyes.

The next day my dad and I visited the Creation Museum, and then it was a long drive back to Wisconsin. But I rolled into our driveway at 10pm Monday night. My adventurous three weeks was coming to a close!

It feels good to be home. I'm adjusting better to home life and the culture here in the US better this year. But I haven't had too much time to process my experience in Bolivia yet. I know this trip changed me - I just haven't quite put my finger on how yet. But I don't want to be the same Cora I was before I left almost four weeks ago. God did big things, and He worked in small changes in my life too.

Stay tuned as I process those things. I'm working on a post-trip debrief letter. It's hard to boil down three weeks of experiences into a clear and concise letter. But I'm ever so grateful for the support I had on my trip down there, and I want to be able to communicate my experience!