Lambs and Lions (OR, Throwing up: My Toronto Adventure)

It all started when I threw up on the 7C going towards the terminal at about 8:15am. The bus was very crowded, mostly with elementary and high school students on their way to class, so I was standing at the front of the bus. Thankfully there was a garbage can also at the front of the bus, so I threw up into that. Nobody seemed to notice, and I felt extremely dirty, or like I had done something very lowly and disgusting, even though I couldn't help it.

I haven't thrown up in years. At first I thought it was because I hadn't eaten breakfast that morning, and I had taken a shower. If I wake up before a certain hour (still not sure what the hour is, but I think it's 8:00am) and I don't eat anything, my body will shut down and I'll be extremely weak for a long time until I can get some food into me. Also, for some strange reason, showering seems to drain a lot of energy out of me, and the combination of not showering and not eating at an early hour is enough to render me incapacitated for quite a while! But I've never thrown up from it... I thought I was used to this by now, and kind of appreciative of how forcefully my body makes me have to eat healthily, but I never expected to hurl. I tried calling Mike and Mary to see if they could pick me up from the terminal, and get me to a place where I could rest and eat, but they weren't home, and it turned out they would be gone for a few days. So I decided to continue on my trip to Toronto.

One of my friends told me about a ministry in Toronto called MoveIn a couple of weeks ago, where people live in community in various parts of the city where there's a lot of need and try to fulfill that need, and basically, share the love of Christ. It really, really excited me when I heard about it, and one would be a fool to ignore such excitement, so I researched them, and e-mailed them, and set up a time to come down and visit and see exactly what it is they do. I didn't really tell any of my friends about it, and I kept this all quiet (whenever people asked why I was going, I just answered by saying, "Commune Hunting!" and left it at that) because I wanted to go completely by myself and for myself, and not have others assuming any other reason than that, simply because... there is no other reason. It's also healthy (at least for me) once in a while to go on adventures solo - I have yet to find others who are up to the kind of adventures I like to go on.

So when I found no ride home from the terminal, I thought that getting a yogurt from the convenience store would be sufficient and I could make it and would be fine for the rest of the trip. So I went ahead and got on the Greyhound to Toronto... but shortly after we left, I threw up again. There was no other place to throw up but the aisle, and I got vomit all over my sweater (that I JUST washed! That laundry costs a lot of money. Sheesh.) and all over my bag. People started shoving things in my direction, like paper towels, and bags. I threw up again after that, and it was the first time I had puked in a bag before. The number of public transit vehicles I've thrown up in went from zero to two in the space of an hour. Somebody gave me a gravol, and another gave me a bottle of water. When I got to the terminal, I still felt extremely weak, so I tried to contact the people I was meeting, but they weren't responding to my phone calls, or text messages. I opted then for the only other person I knew in Toronto who might help me: Mitchell Peterson. I'm pretty sure he had a crush on me at some point, but I figured I wasn't really crush-worthy today, being covered in vomit and all. He told me to take the subway to Finch where he could find me and pick me up and get me somewhere safe.

I didn't throw up on the subway, but I got real close. I started asking the guy next to me open-ended questions to try and distract myself from that awful feeling, and he was really understanding and good at talking and trying to get me out of motion sickness. He pointed me in the right direction and I went into a shopping center to wait for Mitchell. I sat across from this older lady who gave me a tylenol and started telling me about how she had been married for 56 years, and liked using e-mail, and drove every week to Toronto to take her friend to the doctor's when I started feeling sick again, so I thanked her for the good company, and went up an escalator, but that was a REAL bad idea... I threw up in a garbage can at the top of the escalator. A stranger saw me blowing chunks and bought me a can of ginger ale. Another stranger came while I was collapsed on the ground and made sure I was fine and helped me find a place to sit. Strangers are so kind sometimes. I can never get over how blessed I am by complete strangers.

Mitchell picked me up and took me to Tyndale University, where he lived. He had to go to class so I went and slept in their common lounge. I felt kind of strange, being a total stranger completely unconscious in a common area, but I was in so much pain, and my head hurt so much that it concerned me much less than it usually would. At this point I had finally managed to touch base with the MoveIn people so they knew I was there and they were able to come pick me up, so I slept until they phoned me telling me they had arrived. Of course the effort of moving downstairs to the main doors to meet them caused me to throw up again, but this time I had the luxury of barfing into a toilet. AND it tasted like ginger ale... kind of. But not a bad deal all in all.

They took me back to their community, where I crashed on a pull-out couch for a couple of hours, waking up every so often to go and throw up. I was dry-heaving at this point, so I was trying to drink water so that I'd have something to regurgitate, even though I felt it was counter-productive, and causing me to throw up more. It is an awful feeling being alone and sick and throwing up in a strange place, and not being entirely sure what to do about it. At one point, (I may have been delirious but it was an excellent idea) I pulled out my laptop, starting pirating internet signals, and sending out messages to friends asking them to pray for me. That was cool, because I actually FELT the prayers, and felt reassured knowing that I do have friends back at home that cared for me so much, and in the right capacity, and were praying for me. I got this great idea too to have a half-full bottle of water open at my side, and I fell asleep holding it, but whenever I moved, I felt it, so I woke up and drank more of it. This caused me to be able to finish a whole bottle of water - a huge accomplishment! I texted Mat and told him this because one time when I was sick he had talked for an unusual amount of time about the value of drinking water, and lots of it, and how your pee needed to be a certain color - I think he mentioned electrolytes and cell composition as well. But water water water, everyone says this, and as much as it hurts when you're sick, you have to have it.

Later that evening, I felt better, at least enough to talk to people and eat half a slice of toast and a few pieces of asparagus. We went to a prayer meeting, and I was touched - they were so moved to pray for people in their community, just because they felt the need to, and prayed so much, for a couple of hours, at least. It's much, much more important to see love in action, at least for me, than to hear stories about it. I heard their hearts breaking for the people they loved around them. I was trying so hard to participate; I felt bad being with strangers and being so sick and incapacitated. But they were so kind and understanding.

The next day I felt well enough in the morning, I even had some cereal. But then I had another shower... I didn't want to, because I knew it would drain all the energy I had. But I had vomit caked in my hair, and I was certain that wasn't good. That did it in for me. I went to their office to help out a bit, but all I had energy for was to help label some cases for them. They were constantly doing research on neighbourhoods that were in need, and praying for teams to fulfill all those needs. So many neighbourhoods, and they had write-ups for all of them, and were always finding more and praying for more. I was exhausted after that, and could only eat a couple bites of KD before I called it quits and went back, and slept for the remainder of the afternoon. I realized I'd be too weak to catch the bus home so I called David Klumpenhower and asked him to pick me up, but he couldn't come till midnight. Klumpy has to be one of the most generous, selfless people I know, and I knew he would go out of his way to come at midnight to Toronto just because he bends over backwards for his friends. I told him to not come because I didn't want to take advantage of his incredible generosity. I have excellent friends. They pray for me, and drive to Toronto for me, and go out of their way to pick me up in Toronto and get me to safety. And they read my blog. :) But when I woke up, I felt completely better, albeit a bit weak from everything.

We went to visit people after that - I wasn't sure what that'd be like, and truthfully, the other girls were nervous too. We only got to go to one apartment though. As soon as they answered, they seemed so happy, like they were expecting us, and welcomed us in, and invited us to sit, then started serving us tea and candy and cupcakes until we were stuffed. They were a family from Afghanistan: a sister and brother in high school, living with their older sister, and their niece and nephew, while their parents were still in Afghanistan. They told us about the trouble of finding work and having money, and then about how hard it is to learn English (though their English was excellent!) and their hopes for going to university. They just poured out their life story, and we barely asked. I was so surprised. I realized that sometimes, the idea of evangelizing to people seems more daunting than it actually is, and people just want to talk. I wasn't sure if the girl was lonely, or if people from Afghanistan are just incredibly hospitable by culture. As soon as she heard I was a religious studies student, she talked about how she wanted to learn more about religions. We stayed there for a long time, till we were out of time to visit other people.

There is a great deal of admirable conviction and faith that goes into a decision to live in a not-necessarily comfortable place for the sole purpose of sharing God's love with those around you. And I have been really impacted and inspired by the actions resulting from their faith by having the courage to step out and the humility to trust God in all they do. I felt like my "throwing up" episode was, somehow, a purge of a lot of things in my life that needed to go. I really learned a lot. And I've made changes I didn't realize I needed to make. Some of them are big, and scary, and exciting. I'm still learning, and God is working, and I am so excited, and surprised that so much seems to be coming out of a trip that was spent being mostly unconscious or throwing up. These changes are far better asked about in person. A blog will never do justice. And please ask. I'd love to tell. May this inspiration be long lasting, and not the result of one pivotal experience. May I live up to the daring dreams I'm having, and have the courage to love. May I not be afraid, for it takes more courage to be a lamb than a lion.


www.movein.to