jakorte's blog

10/5, 5:00 pm

Somewhere on the bottom side of Mississippi, I had decided to relieve myself of driving duty. Camped out in the farthest back seat, I listened to conversations, listened to music, and rolled my traveling jacket into a makeshift pillow. I rested, wrote, and closed my eyes for a bit. That was just to keep the tears from falling out. Things had settled down some. I had some serious thoughts to deal with.

I keep praying for you. I know it’s prayers for me, too. I know this is selfish.
The last time I prayed for someone to find happiness, they truly did.
It hurt. I gave it to GOD and he took me at my word.
So, why am I doing it again? To prove I can trust him?
Because, maybe, someday someone will pray for my happiness?
Maybe because I hope that while I’m praying for yours, you’re praying for mine.

I guess I must have actually dozed off, because they next thing I knew I woke up to the realization that I needed a rest room. We’d just crossed over into Louisiana. No longer hyper, somewhat tired, the setting sun had apparently brought us all down a notch. Most everyone was asleep; except the driver of course. Sometimes that’s just how a mission trip goes.

In any case, I didn’t want to shout about my predicament from the back seat and wake the others up. So, I texted. “Potty break, please.” Next thing I know, there’s laughter up front, and a loud announcement. “Jodi needs a potty break!” My text makes its way around the van. It’s my fault when we pull over at a less than desirable pit of a stop. Lots of bottled coffee and Mt Dew get purchased. We’re so close now. We’re so ready to get there.