A ride on a bus in Nepal can be quite an experience in itself, really.
But no matter how long the journey was, I remember I was hardly ever frustrated by it. Songs filled my mind, and I hummed and sang my way through. Twice, I went to Nepal to visit the orphanage which Kitesong is raising funds for, and both trips were filled with incredibly long bus journeys. It was only but once that a trip became unbearable for me- and only because I had caught a food-bug which blessed me with incessant diarrhoea, and the art of projectile vomitting which flew across the bathroom like a multi-coloured rainbow with a perfect trajectory.
I never got bored. When I did, I hummed, or I sang. While I itched to reach the destination, I lapped up every precious moment of the ride, like a scrawny cat does to pearl-white milk, bobbing my head to the symphony inside my head, or to the heart-thumping Nepali music playing on the bus stereo. The land was beautiful- wide rivers interweaving through emerald mountain ranges, tiny shacks dotting a quiet village, unending fields against a mountainous landscape... I enjoyed every moment of what ought to have been interminably long bus rides.
The time where it got too hot and tight for comfort, I simply climbed onto the bus-roof, on top of all the other travellors' luggage, together with 2 other American backpackers- a seventy-year old adventurer and his son who both had a taste for adventure, and clinged on tight to the nylon ropes, ducking overhead electric wires which came fast at us, as the bus swerved daringly past turns, edged bravely along the thin mountain passes, and whizzed crazily along the dusty Nepali roads.
There was never a dull moment.
What a far cry to my attitude on public transport back home, here. What an irony- here, the trains and buses provide the comforts fit for a king, but time here ticks far faster, and I'm constantly looking at my watch to see what time I reach my destination. This station to this station. 22 minutes. Are we there yet? Oh gosh, a traffic jam- I hope I won't be late! Oh dear me.
As we journey through different stations of life, do we, too, place our focus so much on the end, the Final Destination, that we forget to enjoy the journey?
It could be becoming a competent worker. A more-than-mediocre student. A famous writer. A good doctor. A person who is completely well and free, fully able to exult in the joy and liberation which a life with God promises. But... why is it that no matter how far we try, these ideals still seem so far away, so distant?
It can be so discouraging. Daddy, why aren't we there yet?
Just a month ago my heart was heavy-laden. I had been trying so hard in Recovery to make little breakthroughs every day- why was I still so far from the end? I had made significant progress, but why was there -still- such a long way to go?
It would take me another 3 years to graduate to become a doctor, an extra 3 years to specialise and become skilled in my area of interest, and another 3 years to serve my bond before I could leave the country for any long-term missionary work. Why is the journey so long? Why am I so far from being who I wish to be? How come I'm not like him, or her, or her...?
How long more?
Merely the thought itself tired me, as I looked down at my watch and stared at the minute hand creeping by sluggishly, in an excruciatingly slow manner. I became frustrated, discouraged and the song-bird within me grew old, and died from sorrow.
Why does the end seem so far away. Why can't we be perfect... tomorrow?
And perhaps we forget, that it is precisely the distance from the destination which gives us the opportunity to live, and the privilege of time to explore our weaknesses, discover our strengths and experiment with our ideas. Perhaps we forget, that the distance from our destination may be a blessing in disguise, giving us time, space, freedom... to grow, mature and ripen.
Have we become so preoccupied with the destination that we forget to look out and enjoy the ever-changing scenery? Have we become so engrossed with the minute hand on our watches that we neglect the other passengers on the bus with us, and miss out on the divine encounters, exchanges which could have been? Have we become so frustrated with the sheer distance left to cover that we forget to celebrate the progress we are making every moment, one step closer to our final stop?
Indeed, one finds it difficult to enjoy the ride when one is so focused on reaching one's destination.
So maybe we can't see the end. Maybe we're not there yet. Maybe it feels like we'll never be.
But I open my eyes now to take in the trees I never noticed before, the charming, rustic landscape I was once blind to. I lift up my head to see the people taking the ride with me, and form friendships, relationships with them, accepting their help when I stumble during a bumpy ride and reaching out to hold them if they fall. I look at the person I've become and the maturity birthed within me, simply from the ability to admire beauty, embrace humanity and celebrate process.
It's a Process. When we see our lives as a process, and not a destination, we find ourselves free to live again. And we celebrate even the time which was given to us as a gift of grace, for us to find ourselves.
And so when my heart becomes heavy-laden with discouragement, I stop to ruminate on the milestones I've reached; stop to marvel at the wonderful people I've met in the support groups, in the medical community, through this space; stop to take in the profound transformation that has taken place within me ever since I believed in God's love for us. I start to enjoy the journey for itself, and luxuriate in the privilege to bask in the hope of the End ahead, in the privilege to delight between anticipation and fulfillment, between a vision, and a dream-come-true, between hope and faith sealed with love.
And then the journey becomes bearable, becomes beautiful, becomes a blessing again.
We learn Patience, faith and hope.
And once again, I can sing.
" But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently..."
-Romans 8:25
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