BuenaVibra

An Apple.

It was just an apple. It was a small apple that I had grabbed from my moms house. No time to even consider what color I grabbed or if it was washed. I knew that I would be extremely hungry at some point during my seven hour lay over in fort Lauderdale or at some point during my journey south. I threw the apple in a zip lock bag and in to my oversized carry on it went.

My flight to Fort Lauderdale went quickly, it was the layover I was dreading. Seven hours in an airport terminal with one coffee stand. I arrived at the airport at 5:00am in the morning and managed to drape over my bags for a good solid three hours, when a Latino woman woke me up in a panic, afraid that I was going to miss my flight to Huston! When I came to and realized I wasn't even going to Huston, I relaxed, it was time for coffee.

Surprisingly, the lay over was peaceful. Not once, in the last two years of my life, had I sat down and just read a romantic-filled fiction book. A romantic love story about a guy and a girl was just what the layover needed.

For the next three hours I went back and fourth between my Nicholas Sparks page turner and ease dropping on a group of five men in their mid thirties. They were reminiscing about old trips they’d been on. Their excitement for this next trip to Costa Rica could barley be contained. Kite surfing, white water rafting, surfing, and gifts they were going to buy girlfriends were among the many things they discussed. Before long, it was time to board that plane.

A quick nap later, it was time for the last leg of my journey. I had landed on Dominican Soil. Santo Domingo and Marshall (my ride to the metro station) were waiting for me.

The last 5:00pm ticket was all mine. Four more hours and I would finally be there.  The metro bus from Santo Domingo to Puerto Plata is a busy route. With my very oversized carry on, I mustered down the isle of the bus to find a window seat next to a man named, Fidel.

The apple. I remembered that apple. I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast and in the midst of tiny cat-naps and busyness, I had forgotten to eat. We’ve all been there, so busy that we forget to even eat.

I pulled out the zip lock bag and took out my apple. It was then, for the first time, that it hit me; this is a new season. Life as I knew it was changing. I don’t know what it was about the apple, but for the first time in months, my eyes weld up with tears.

I tried to avoid eye contact with Fidel, ("you know, like Fidel Castro", he reminded me kindly, as we introduced ourselves). Why was I crying, darnit? As I looked at that apple, I recalled grabbing it earlier that morning…. 

My mom. My house. Driving out of my neighborhood. Everything I owned in boxes and garbage bags in the family garage. It was in that moment that I lounged to feel a part of my old routine life that I decided to throw out the window almost 6 months ago. Just for a moment I wanted that comfort back. One more time before routine would be something of the past. I wanted one more hug from my mom and dad. One more more early morning workout. One more girls night. One more movie on the couch. One more coffee from down the street before heading to work.

I was so busy. So busy planning this next chapter of my life. So busy making sure THIS season of my life would be planned out, unlike the rest of the crazy seasons I’ve already been through. I would take extra precautions before this season started. No loose ends…

 God had other plans. 

No way was I going to move through to this new adventure without one ounce of emotion or reflection. The last six months were a blur and I knew, sitting with that apple in my hand that the next six weeks of my life were going to me “unthawing” from a season where I hid from who God truly wanted me to be.

God took my heart on that bus and used that silly little apple to start to unclench my fists. The next six weeks will be beautiful.