Saturday morning my mom, my brother and his dog, and I loaded back into the car and began our journey back to Illinois. Since I had driven nearly the entire way out to AZ, I hopped in the passenger seat and my mom drove all the way to the east side of New Mexico. I enjoyed being able to watch the scenery and take in God's creation. It was a fairly peaceful drive up until that point. We stopped at Denny's in Santa Rosa, NM at around 7pm for dinner. This is where the trip became much less peaceful.
I got a buffalo chicken sandwich and it was yummy. About half way through the sandwich I was pretty full and it's probably a good thing I didn't finish it off. We got back in the car around 8, I was behind the wheel. Not even 10 minutes after we got back on the road, I started to feel sick. Not "I ate too much sick", but sick, sick. I don't deal well with sick, sick. Of course once you pass that final main town in NM, there's hardly anything and I knew I would need a bathroom asap!
I definitely didn't want to pull off and barf in front of everyone. About 20 minutes later there was a truckstop and I pulled off as quickly as I could. We were there for the next 30 minutes or so, I took some medicine, and then we headed off again. I knew I still wasn't right. My legs were shaking so much... you know how it is, right? When you're feeling super nauseous and your legs get shaky right before you throw up... yeah that's how I felt. I was still in the driver's seat so I would have full control of the stopping when necessary. It's so miserable to feel that way while driving, knowing you still have about 17 hours of drive time left. I was thinking about asking if we could just stop and stay in a hotel so I could be close to a bathroom, but I really just wanted to be home. I never asked and we kept going.
About 3 hours after I initially got sick, I already felt better. Praise the Lord. From the moment I felt those first yucky feelings in my tummy, I began to pray that I wouldn't barf. Then when I was feeling like I really needed to, I just prayed for the Lord to help me to not be so dramatic about it. I've seen God do some amazing miracles. I've seen a roaring lake, completely silenced by His great power. So my prayers were very much the same. I know it all sounds crazy, but being sick to my stomach is my kryptonite... that and crickets. I fall apart when I'm sick that way. I don't have any reason other than it's horrible and thankfully it hardly ever happens to me. I was kind of even laughing at myself because my conversation with God in my head as I was driving and begging for healing sounded so pitiful. People suffer much worse than a tiny bit of food poisoning and don't crumble.
I'm so grateful to God for the way that I believe He really did heal me. I drove about 10 hours until around 6:30am. I had made it through the night without throwing up, with minimal stops, and without feeling crazy-tired. It was actually awesome to put on some Selah and sing loudly through the night. (somehow my mom and brother slept through my LOUD rendition of each song.) We stopped in Tulsa, Ok for breakfast and my mom and brother chose a Denny's. I was NOT thrilled with the choice, but there wasn't much else around besides fastfood. I ate a little toast and then went and laid down in the car while they finished eating. My brother's dog was being ridiculous and not allowing me to sleep, however.
Once everyone was back in the car, my brother drove so I could try to sleep. His silly dog would not relax. He kept stepping and sitting on me, not to mention he kept breathing on me with his hot, smelly breath. Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep and I was becoming super annoyed because of it. After about 4 hours I couldn't take being in the back with the dog anymore, so I took over driving again in Missouri.
It seems like my mood was directly related to the distance we were from Arizona. The closer we got to home, the crabbier I got. Each time we stopped to fill up with gas or let the dog out the weather got colder and colder. When we crossed into Illinois the speedlimit dropped and it just seemed like we weren't getting anywhere. By the time we made it to our exit I was not speaking to anyone. I was exhausted and tired of being in the car, especially with the dog. My mom suggested we stop at Olive Garden for an early dinner since we hadn't stopped since breakfast and my first response in my mind was, "are you nuts?? I just want to go home!!" No sleep and hunger don't mix well with me. My brother was on the same page as me, so we stopped at a different, much faster place. I ate my salad, half asleep at the table. We dropped my brother and his dog off, and got home around 6 last night.
I held out until about 8 before falling asleep and I didn't wake up until about 7 this morning. So no, the trip home wasn't as pleasant as the trip out there had been. However, God still moved in huge ways and I still got to sing my praises loudly. The last song that played on the radio before I shut it off here at home was Fingerprints of God. He is so good.
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