You the Craine.

I'm currently packing. My mom and I leave in an hour to go to Chicago... then Dusseldorf... then Kiev... then a long train ride down to Zaporizhia to meet Kathy at the train station with her companions. We leave on a Thursday and arrive in Zaporizhia Saturday afternoon. That's a long time travelling, but well worth it considering what, or WHO rather is waiting at the end. We get to go to church with her the next morning and then we'll accompany her to the Mission home in Dnepropetrovsk and her mission president will officially release her into our care. We'll visit her other city Sevastopol (she's only been in two cities her whole mission) and will then return to Kiev so she can see the new Kiev temple. We'll do a few sessions there and the will fly home.

I don't know what to expect. I don't know anyone who has ever been to the Ukraine. It's funny because we used to use the Ukraine in a teaching example on my mission. We'd say, "Just because I've never been to the Ukraine or seen the country doesn't mean that it is mere fiction. I know it exists just as I know God exists despite the fact that I've never seen Him in this life." Now I'm actually going to see this country. I'm mostly excited to meet the people I've heard all about for the last several months.

I can't believe Kathy is getting home... I'll be able to call her and she'll be at our family dinners... I get my sister back. I'm finally starting to realize how much I've missed her.

More details about the trip and Sister Jones-the-younger are forthcoming!

Washington D.C.

I got to go to my dear friend Ann Marie's wedding back in D.C. at the beginning of November. It was my maiden voyage to the country's capitol and I daresay it was a success. Ann and I met years ago when we both backpacked our way across the British Isles with a BYU study abroad group. She became sort of an older sister to me and I wanted to go and support her on the blessed day. I got to meet up with two of my other wonderful friends from that study abroad, Janelle and Evelyn. Janelle lives back in D.C. so I got to stay with her. She has a corner of her room dedicated to pirates. That should give you a good idea about how Janelle and I get along. Ev is pregnant with her 3rd baby. She has two girls that have clear blue eyes like their mother. She's amazing. 

On Friday, I walked from Janelle's house in Arlington down to the metro and went in to the city. Beautiful. 

Washington Monument. 

Jefferson Monument. Jefferson is my favorite of the founding fathers. 

I spent the majority of my time here at the Holocaust museum. Humbling experience to say the least. 

Janelle's lunchbox was in her car. I opened it up and found this. Never have I been more proud of Janelle Lamb. 

Who loves FDR? I DO!

After an incredible morning drive through the hills of Maryland we turned a corner and saw this. The D.C. temple with the Eastern fall colors was an unforgettable sight. Inside the temple are a lot of big windows offering spectacular views. Beautiful. 

The weather was superb. Chilly but clear and full of beautiful colors. 

Ann was a beautiful bride. Josh's nieces were almost too cute to handle.

So happy.

I love this picture. 

Like I said, the colors... oh the colors!

The wedding luncheon was held on the banks of the Potomac. 

Reunited! (Erica, I email you right before this picture was taken... we missed you so much)

The wedding was beautiful, in true Ann Marie style. I met some great people back in D.C. and now understand why so many talk it up so much. It was lovely. Big fan!

Disneyland in September

Up late with Ash listening to music and laying on the couches. I have a few new toys (this and this to be more specific) thanks to a great job at the MTC and so Ash is kindly giving me favorite tunes to ameliorate my iTunes library while I try my best to beat her high score on Fruit Ninja, otherwise known as The Most Addicting Game in the World. I realized that I haven't given this blog a good update in quite a while. Every time I went to post something, I realized I still hadn't written a word on Kilimanjaro so I'd give it up as a good job and check my email for the 30th time that day. Now that I've finally tackled the Kili posts, I can returned to the blogosphere in good conscience. It's good to be back, everyone.

Today I'll attempt to explain our September trip to Disneyland.

Ali, Julia, Lawanna, Kirsti, me

Shortly after coming back from Africa, my roommates and I (sans Ashley who had to work) decided to take our dear friend Lawanna to Disneyland. I haven't explained much of Lawanna's situation yet so here is the condensed version: I met Lawanna in my ward back when I moved in over the summer. She is from Arkansas and joined the church about 4 years ago. Before her conversion, she led a pretty rough life on the streets of Little Rock. She was put in over 70 foster homes and has had some really difficult experiences. When she met the missionaries, she was introduced to the idea of a loving God which essentially pulled her out of some tough spots. Life didn't get easy for Lawanna as soon as she joined the church-- quite the contrary. She moved out to Utah to escape some bad situations and soon after getting here she was diagnosed with breast cancer. She's been fighting it hard for a long time now and is now in stage 4 but she's still strong and is facing this battle with more courage and strength than I've seen in any person. She's only a few years older than me and deals with decisions and problems that someone much older would have difficulty with... and she does it alone. She doesn't have any family or support from home.

Because of her upbringing, she'd never had the opportunity to go to Disneyland. We decided to remedy that. It was an incredible experience to say the least. We had miracle after miracle come our way and were treated extremely well by all who talked to us and found out more about Lawanna. She has the gift of attracting good people who instantly fall in love with her. She also has the most giving heart and is constantly looking for people to serve despite her trials and challenges. She is a really amazing example of what the Atonement can do for a person.

Lulu and me

We flew to the Long Beach airport Wednesday evening. We had park-hopper passes for three days and we went all three days. We had to take it slow and be careful because Lawanna's health is fragile. But SHE isn't fragile and she wanted to see as much as she could. The employees of Disneyland were incredible, particularly one named Karen. She just happened to be the one helping us and is a breast cancer survivor herself so her heart really went out to Lawanna. She gave us all the hook ups, including a green light pass, meaning that we walked on to every ride without waiting so much as a minute. She got us reservations at the best restaurants, private tours, arranged meetings with the characters, and got us tickets to events. We were treated by gold, which was all we could have dreamed of. Nothing than the best for Lawanna.

Lawanna loves Tiana the most because she's black and from the south. Disneyland employees arranged a private meeting with Tiana just for Lawanna. 

Buzz especially liked Lawanna

I love this picture. Lawanna and Belle look like old friends catching up. 

We spent most of our time in Disneyland but also went over toe California Adventure. We rode the Tower of Terror three times. It was Lawanna's clear favorite.

The expressions in this picture of us on the Tower of Terror are priceless. I especially love Ali and Julia on the right and how they're looking over at Lawanna's terrified face. She was clutching my arm and screaming louder than I've ever heard anyone scream... in my life.

 We also took her to Newport Beach. She hadn't ever stuck her feet in the ocean before so we needed to make that a priority. We took some good pictures at sunset.

Ali, me, Julia, Lawanna, and Kirst

 We ate some incredible food. We got reservations at both the Blue Bayou and Ariel's Grotto, two of the greatest restaurants I've been to. The Blue Bayou is actually inside the Pirates of the Caribbean ride so we could see the people float by on the boats as we ate. Ariel's Grotto had amazing desserts.

The highlight I think for all of us was when Karen got us tickets two nights in a row to World of Color, this amazing water and light show at California Adventure. Danny and Taryn (my brother and sister-in-law) had just gotten back from Disneyland when we decided to go so I called Taryn for suggestions and she said that this was THE must-see. I didn't know what to expect exactly. We sat down as it was getting dark in front of this huge lake. All the lights in the park turned off and they began this show that used huge fountains, lasers, lights, fire and other effects that absolutely blew my mind. I've never seen anything like it.



They somehow had figured out how to project scenes from Disney movies on to mist. They used parts of a bunch of different movies. The best part by far was when they played part of the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack and fire started shooting everywhere. It was about 30 minutes of constant smiling and continuous disbelieving laughter. Incredible. I found this clip on youtube that give you a partial idea, although I've got to say that the real thing is much better.



We came back early Sunday morning in time to go to church that day. We were all really sad to come home but none more so than Lawanna. She was coming back to more chemo treatments and doctor visits. She is in pain a lot of the time (though you wouldn't know it, she's pretty tough) and the idea of leaving "the happiest place on earth" was rough for her. But we came back and have had some good experiences since. More on those later.

I'm so glad we went. When I met and starting developing a relationship with Lawanna over the summer, something happened to me that I can't quite put in to words. She's changed my life forever. She is a truly inspiring person and I love her the same way that I loved the Italian people on my mission... with my whole heart. I can't really describe what it is about her that inspires such love and loyalty. She's just one of the most beloved and treasured people on the planet, I'm sure of it. I would do anything for her. And the truth of it is that my friendship with her is selfish on my part. She teaches me and blesses me more than she knows. Julia, Kirsti and I all work as coordinators at the MTC so she comes in often and we use her as object lessons and use her to teach the missionaries how to teach effectively and she is amazing with them. She has helped me see the world from a completely different vantage point than I've ever had. She is like a sister to me. Seeing her so happy in Disneyland gave me a small glimpse of what this life is all about.

Ali, Kirsti, Lawanna and Lizzie walking down Main Street

BEST. DISNEYLAND TRIP. EVER. 

Foggy Moment

My dad just reminded me of a funny foggy moment. 

foggy moment [faw-gee moh-muhnt] --noun. From the Greek form James Gary Sheets

Of or relating to an embarrassing experience usually having to do with a lack of thought and/or coherence, often in the presence of family members. Typically exploited greatly by said family members and is extremely hard to live down. Originated with Grandpa Gary Sheets, whose nickname as a young man was Foggy due to many of these episodes.

see also: foggy award, Foggy Sheets, Sheets family

He won the foggy award of the month for this one. My dad, mom and I were sitting at the cabin talking about Kilimanjaro and wondering what our next goal should be.

Dad: I really want to start running more. Lizzie, you should train with me. I think I'm really going to start training hard for a 1/2 K.

Lizzie: Wow Dad, a 1/2 K? That might be a little ambitious. What's that, up to the top of the street and back? You'll have to train hard.

Dad: No, I meant a half marath...

Mom: Now honey, don't go straining yourself... a 1/2 K is quite the race.

Dad: Oh, shut up.

So if you see my dad, congratulate him... both on his race and on his foggy moment.

Bagel-fuls

ARE NOT GOOD.

It's a good thing the veracity of the Church is not at all influenced by the MTC's limited vending machine selection.

Kilimanjaro

I finished (finally) documenting the happenings on Mount Kilimanjaro. If you want to read about the entire experience, it'd make more sense for you to start at the bottom with the first post (there are 5 and they are long) and work your way up. If you're interested in hiking the mountain, let me know and I can give you more details. We climbed with Team Kilimanjaro and were extremely impressed.  Check out their website. 

I would absolutely climb it again, I really enjoyed my experience. I'd highly recommend it to anyone. Absolutely incredible experience unlike any I've ever had.

The Story, Part 5- Finishing, videos, and wrap up

So we made it to the top.

Excerpts from the journal:

Day 5 on the Mountain- Summit day continued

Standing atop Mount Kilimanjaro is an emotion in and of itself. I can't think of one that would adequately describe the feeling. It was a mixture of excitement, relief, and victory. I gave my dad a big hug and then went to go sit on a cliff that looked out over the crater that formed the top of Kilimanjaro. A good friend gave me a great piece of advice before I left. He said "Do something significant at the top. It doesn't need to be significant to anyone else but you, but do something." I thought all the way up about what I wanted to do and decided around day 4. While sitting there on the cliff trying to catching my breath, I selected the two biggest rocks that I could find. 

I named one fear and one doubt… then I hurled them off the top of the mountains and watched them smash and shatter as they rolled off the cliffs below. That was why I climbed [read on to find out what I mean] and so that was my significant act at the top. We stayed at the top for about 45 minutes. A thick fog began settling over the peak, covering the ground and draping over rocks and boulders. The air became even colder and wetter. It was time to go.

The cloud we were in got thicker as we headed down. My breathing was much better, probably because I wasn’t exerting nearly as much while going downhill. However the trek down was much more dangerous in my opinion. We were weak and tired, my legs were shaky and keep in mind that all I’d really had to eat were some cookies, an apple, and a few bites of a Snickers bar. I had been drinking quite a bit but my stomach was virtually empty. I also didn’t realize going up how steep the trail we had just completed really was. We were going down sheer rock faces—steep ones—and I had to be extremely careful with my footing. Dad’s headache was back so I was concerned about him as well. We got off of the boulders and essentially started ski-sliding down loose gravel and dirt up to our knees. Since we weren’t sure what was under the gravel and dirt, I was worried about having my ankle or knee caught on an unseen rock. An injury at this point would be really bad. Falling or tripping would be equally dangerous. Downhill is also a lot harder on your joints. My ankles were in good shape because of my boots but my knee had been giving me problems the whole way up and it was starting to ache. It was a rather stressful situation.

An hour into the downhill, Dad had to stop and rest to try to get rid of his migraine. We were still exposed at and a long way down. The fog was getting thicker and the cold air stung my red cheeks. We took it slower but I could tell that he wasn’t feeling so hot. I felt okay, but really tired. Frank took my dad down one way that was apparently gentler and longer and Sifuel took the other route which was ambitious but quicker. I was hiking in front of Sifuel and listening to music to distract me from my knee, whose ache had now turned into a throb. The fog was now so thick that I couldn’t see more than 5 feet in front of or behind me. I lost sight of Sifuel. I took out my headphones and called his name. No answer. I called louder and with more sharpness in my voice. Again no answer. Taking a deep breath, I turned to face the trail. It now seemed completely incomprehensible. This trail was nothing like the clear well-kept trails down in the rainforest. This was jagged and unclear, muddled by snow, ice and boulders. I couldn’t tell where I should be going and at this point in the hike down direction was crucial. Guessing and taking the wrong path could lead me precariously close to the edge of a cliff or lost in the fog. Panic rose in my chest as I called Sifuel’s name again. I heard nothing but the wind whipping between the rocks around me. 

I thought about staying where I was in case Sifuel had simply fallen behind me and needed to catch up. But I felt like I needed to keep moving in order to stay warm. Thinking back to the last several minutes, I  also realized that I might have been hiking alone for a while and that I wasn’t sure if I had already taken the wrong path. If that was the case, sitting and waiting surely wasn’t an option. I closed my eyes and said a prayer out loud, pleading for help. I felt like I should continue to move but to literally move according to the spirit. I chose one path over another and spoke out loud "Father, I'm going down this way. Stop me if I shouldn't." I began down, then felt unsure so I traced my steps back and chose the other path. "Okay, so I'll try this way. Let me know if that's unwise." If I felt okay about it, I kept going. This continued for five  minutes or so when I heard my name being called by Sifuel, who was somewhere in front of me. I called back and worked my way towards his voice. He didn’t seemed panicked but was obviously a little concerned. Apparently he go an emergency phone call and was headed from another guide asking him what to do with an evacuation situation. He couldn’t move from where he was because he would lose reception. He had called down to me and asked me to wait and he thought I had heard him but couldn’t see me through the fog so when he began again, he couldn’t find me. 

I immediately recognized this as a literal representation of the hymn “Lead, Kindly Light.” Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom. Lead Thou me on. The night is dark and I am far from home, lead Thou me on. Keep Thou my feet, I do not ask to see the distant scene, one step enough for me.

Sifuel and I continued at a rapid pace down the mountain. Because I had gotten lost, Dad and Frank beat us down by a few minutes. Dad sat in the tent with his hands over his eyes looking pale. He couldn’t drink much and didn’t want to eat anything. I also didn’t have any appetite, though I was drinking plenty. The guides decided that the most important thing to do would be to get Dad out of the altitude and continue hiking down for three more hours to a lower camp. Though at the time I didn’t think we had three hours of strength left, this decision proved to be very wise.

I felt really good on the way down. I’m certain that had nothing to do with my own strength, I’m usually tired and sore after long intense hikes and this had by far been the longest and the most ambitious of my life. I also hadn’t eaten much or slept much the last few days. My Dad’s headache was worse than ever and he had slept and eaten less than I had. In spite of all that, we were able to maintain a fairly steady pace on our way down to Millennial Camp where we spent the night. Sifuel and Frank were monitoring both of us closely and Sifuel told me that if Dad’s headache didn’t get better within an hour of us arriving at camp, they would likely plan an emergency evacuation to prevent dehydration or worse. The were slightly worried that Dad might have cerebral edema (swelling in the brain caused by altitude) since the symptoms of migraines are similar.

We got to camp and Dad went to the tent to lie down. I went to talk to General and asked if he wouldn’t mind preparing some really mild foods. Dad said watermelon sounded okay. General got us some bland chicken broth, unseasoned rice, watermelon, bread, cucumbers, and apples. Dad ate a little and after he warmed up, he was doing much better. I was relieved. I ate a little and both of us drank Gatorade to replace electrolytes. Not much of a celebratory meal for two people that made it to the top of Kilimanjaro today but there will be time to celebrate later. For now, I just want to sleep. I’m finding that a little difficult for two reasons. 1) We are camping by some other victors of the mountain who I believe are drunk. They are singing. Loudly. And poorly. 2) My earplugs are in my backpack in the other tent and it is freezing cold so I don't feel like braving the night air to go get them. Sleep might not come easily tonight.

Day 6- On the way down the Mountain

We woke up this morning feeling much better. Turns out I had no problem falling asleep. As soon as I laid my head down, I was out despite the noise. We woke up to singing as well.

We still had an extra day on the mountain that we could use but we were both anxious to get off the trail so we decided to descend a day early. Our guides were pleased—they would still get paid and this meant that they would be able to get home to their families earlier. We ate breakfast and started getting camp all packed up.

Gordie brought me amazing pineapple for breakfast. 

 I wanted to get some pictures with our whole team. 

The whole Team!

We got everything loaded up and then hiked the rest of the way down. Going down the trail wasn’t super eventful. Honestly, I don't remember much. I listened to a bunch of podcasts and focused on my footing. It didn’t take nearly as long as going up since downhill is faster and because going up we took a much longer route so that we didn’t get too high too quickly. We had to weave our way around the mountain and up so we could get used to the altitude. There was no need to do that going down—it was much more of a straight shot. We were almost to the end and I was tired. My feet ached badly and my knee throbbed worse than ever. I was limping slightly when we walked through the gate, officially finishing the hike. It felt so good. I found a bathroom (with a toilet! A real one!) and splashed water on my face and neck. I also looked in the mirror for the first time and saw quite the sight. My face was dirty, red, and wind burnt. My hair was a dry frizzy mess since I had kept it under scarves and hadn’t combed it for a week. I looked pretty scary. I suddenly got really excited to take a long hot shower.

We got into another rickety bus to go back to our hotel. Again, I watched transfixed as I stared out the window at the scenes of the Mountain town of Moshi. I pulled out my camera to try to capture what I saw in video form but  obviously it doesn’t do the sight justice. 





Small children in their school uniforms lined the road and waved and called to us as we passed. I waved back. People were gathered around their small homes and they watched us as we passed. It was beautiful up there. 





I suddenly felt so grateful for such an amazing experience. I think I must have been a little delirious but I felt like I recognized these people. I just felt a great love for the people and places in Africa. 

On the ride home. Tired but satisfied. 

So the rest of my journal is pretty uneventful. I'll fill in the holes. We stayed in Arusha for a few more days before going home. We went to the markets and bought some cool things for family and friends back at home. When it was time to go to the airport, I was very anxious to get back home. I wanted my bed and my friends and my clothes and my shampoo and my food. 

Summary

The night of the first day of the hike, I wrote in my journal to answer a question many have asked ever since I decided to hike Mount Kilimanjaro. 

WHY?

Why did you do it? What made you decide that this was something you wanted to do? What person in their right mind would want to hike this mountain? My answer (slightly edited) is below:

This hike is so much more than a hike to me. It is symbolic of a lot of things in my life. Dad and I decided to go at a time when life had flipped upside down and I felt lost, insecure and vulnerable. I needed to prove to myself that I CAN DO HARD THINGS. I can conquer discouragement and despair, that with my Heavenly Father with me and with access to the Atonement, I can do all that is required of me. This mountain is going to be difficult but it is going to take me higher—literally—than I’ve ever been while breathing with my own lungs and walking with my own feet. Its going to push and challenge me—both physically and mentally—more than I’ve ever been pushed or challenged. The scriptures talk continually of “the mountain of the Lord” and about how those closest to God would often seek him after ascending up a high mount. In these conversations on top of the mountain, these individuals would receive revelation, guidance, peace and direction. In my life right now I feel a great need for all of those things. Grandpa Jones gave Dad a blessing the night before we left and said that we both need this to be a SOUL SATISFYING experience. I want this to be an outward demonstration of an inward mentality that I CAN DO HARD THINGS. Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro is hard. There are other things about my life that are hard right now. But all are doable and conquerable with help from above. Both will be overcome. Kilimanjaro represents a lot of things I want to conquer and get over. Doubt about the Lord’s promises, insecurity regarding my future, and more than anything else the mountain is a tangible example of FEAR. This is an adventure that is designed to increase faith. I think of the times in my life when I grow and develop the most- the times when my testimony is strengthened and solidified. Without exception, this happens in times of trial. I gain faith when I’m inclined, or sometimes forced, to use it. Part of my reasoning for wanting to climb this mountain is because I know it will be hard. Because I know I can’t do it by myself. Because I know that putting myself in a physically and mentally vulnerable position will yield spiritual results.  These doubts, these fears and these insecurities all need to be overcome in order for me to see clearly and develop the strength necessary to move on And so, I climb higher for more perspective and light... to be closer to deity… to sweat and cry and then to triumph. THAT is why I climb.

Looking back, that is very much what this trip was for me. I had a lot of time to think as I hiked the trails of Kilimanjaro. I had experiences on the trail that showed quite obviously that by myself I wasn’t enough, but with the help of a loving Heavenly Father who makes our interests his and our thoughts and feelings priority, it was doable. One of the most poignant examples that I have of this relates to clouds and perspective. 

Going up the trail was great at first. Ignorance truly was bliss on that first day. I had no idea how cold it was going to get or how hard it was going to be. I could only see the trail in front of me and it didn’t look too difficult. There were huge trees blocking my view of anything else so all I could comprehend was what was in front of me. I loved the surroundings, I loved where I was, I loved how I felt. As the trail got steeper and more difficult, I began to question the trail slightly. Why do we need to go this way? Wouldn’t it be easier that way? Why can’t we just stop here? Why can’t they make this part easier? Looking up was frustrating because I still could only see part of the trail and the clouds covered the top of the mountain so I couldn’t really gauge how far we had left to go. But after a good deal of work, after choosing to trust those around me and more importantly to trust the calming feelings inside that prompted faith and peace, I was able to experience something wonderful. We rose above the clouds. It was tough work getting there, especially since the air is thin and the trail is difficult, but I could look out and see a new perspective entirely above the clouds. I could see the trail and it made sense. It is difficult to argue with the trail when you’re looking at it from the top. I could see why we’d been led in one direction and not another. I saw reason behind decisions that had been made. I could see the top and where I was going and I could see where I had come from. I didn’t have anything obstructing my view.

Sometimes I get a little blinded by the trail in front of me. I take little thought for what lies ahead and am content to stay how I am. But the only way to progress and get higher is for the trail to get steeper. Most of the time I don’t understand they whys and hows associated with the path I’m currently taking, but I can trust that it is taking me to where I need to be. And I also believe that perspective is something you earn through hard work, whether it be physically, emotionally or spiritually. I had to earn that view above the clouds just like I need to work to maintain an eternal perspective. It is much harder to argue with the trail from the top of the mountain just as it is difficult to argue with the way your life has gone once you turn around and see the sense of where you’ve come from. If you had asked me five years ago where I thought I’d be in five years and what I thought I’d be doing, I can guarantee that I would’ve described a life very different than the one I’m living. But since when am I an expert at the way a life should go? With my limited perspective and narrow vision, I am in no place to make judgment calls. I can leave that to a Guide with more experience, perfection, and better eyesight. In the meantime, I should continue to work hard to gain spiritual altitude.

I will continue to fight to get to the top, for I know what resides there and I know what kind of life awaits me there. Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro taught me this. Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro helped me get over some things that I've been struggling with for months. Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro helped me realize that I CAN do hard things. Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro gave me a stronger relationship with my Father... both my earthly and my Heavenly Father. Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro taught me so much that I'm still discovering things I've learned.

Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro was amazing.   

The Story, Part 4- the summit!!

Ohhh, lets just jump right in.

Day 5 on the Mountain- Summit Day!!

Today was certainly a whir of emotions and events.

Frank woke us up just before 4 and asked us if we wanted to try to summit. Dad hadn't slept at all and we barely ate anything last night so we probably should have said no... but we didn't. We got up and dressed in the warmest clothes we had. It was freezing cold outside and this angry wind blew at the tent. But stepping out and looking up at the stars was pretty incredible. I've never seen anything like that night sky. It looked liked it had been sprinkled with powdered sugar. I still had a throbbing headache due to the altitude and my stomach was queasy. I forced down some hot chocolate, crackers, and a little fruit and then we said a prayer all together. Sifuel and Frank told us that we'd be okay and we semi-believed them. 

Within seconds of starting, the tears in my stinging eyes froze on my cheeks. The water in my camelpack froze. The snot in my nose froze. It was pitch black and we could barely see in front of us. We wore headlamps so that we didn't lose our footing. I wore mittens the size of pillows and the thickest coat I've ever put on my body along with about 10 layers and I was still shivering. I admit, I was hating life for the first little bit. I wasn't feeling well or strong, my headache was getting louder (does that even make sense?) and my legs were shaking. We were hiking across huge frozen boulders covered with ice and it was really scary. I kept slipping. Freezing cold and miserable, I began a continuous discussion with Heavenly Father.  

"Father, I can't do this." 

"Yes, you can."

"Okay, maybe I can... but I don't want to."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I really don't. It's too hard, I don't have enough energy or strength. I want to turn back, I want to be done. I'm scared of falling or hurting myself or not being able to breathe, I can't do this. I can't. I don't want to and I can't."

"Lizzie?"

"What?"

"What makes you think you're going off of your own energy and strength?" 

Just around the time that the pale pinks and lavenders began to smear across the skyline, my mind was flooded with names and faces of people who love and support me-- people who promised to include me daily in their prayers while I was gone. I thought of my Mom's faith particularly and I realized that I really wasn't doing it alone. I had access to the faith and strength and energy of others. Tears filled my eyes at the thought... then promptly froze. But despite the cold, the altitude, the precarious footing, the lack of sleep and energy, the sore muscles and shaking legs, and even despite the temptation to give in to fear, I began pushing forward with renewed purpose. Right then, the sunlight spilled over the horizon in a dazzling display of color and warmth. We turned off our headlamps and continued in daylight. 


Quite frankly, I don't remember many specific details from the next 4 or 5 hours. The terrain got progressively steeper and more rocky and the air continuously thinner the higher we rose yet I felt like for me it got easier and easier-- like I wasn't really breathing with my lungs or moving with my own legs. It was unreal. I kept praying and feeling comforted and hopeful. I felt like I had prepared to get here and now that the task was greater than I was, the Lord was recognizing my preparation and helping me realize a dream that meant a great deal to me. 


Even though I don't remember much, I do remember a few things. 


First- a moment of true despair. 17,500 feet. Up a crazy steep incline. Bathroom break. Still freezing cold. I laboriously hike off to the edge of a cliff so I can't be seen by all the men (I was the only girl in sight). My hands were numb and tingling at the same time (is that even possible?) and my grip on the toilet paper wasn't the best. In the middle of it all (my nether-parts frozen in the frosty wind) I lost hold of the roll and it bounced merrily down the incline and off the cliff. That, my friends, is the definition of true despair. I couldn't do anything to change it so I just sat up there and laughed. 


Second- I took one small dose of Diamox to help me with my breathing at such a high altitude. It helped my headache and nausea as well but Diamox as two interesting side-effects. First, it makes carbonation taste SUPER funky. I realized this at the top of Stella's Point (45 minutes from the top) when Frank gave me a Red Bull. Now, I don't usually drink Red Bulls but an energy drink was exactly what I needed in that situation so I downed it. It sparkled and burned on the way down my throat. It felt like a drink made of pop rocks and flames. Second, Diamox makes you tingle, especially your fingers, toes and face. It felt like every part of me was asleep all day long. My face was the weirdest. I don't know if you've ever felt your face tingle but it is a little disconcerting. 


Third- When the trail got especially rough, I got in the "work-out zone" meaning that I shoved my ipod headphones in my ears and sucked it up. I am immensely grateful for each and every spin class I ever attended. I noticed that some songs deeply affected me, sometimes to the point of tears. In such a mentally and physically vulnerable state, emotions tend to run high and close to the surface. The remix of the song "I Got Soul But I'm Not A Soldier" for instance impacted me deeply-- I listened to it 9 or 10 times in a row, whacking the frozen ground with my hiking poles to the beat of the song. Everything from Lion King Broadway made me cry. It was hilarious and I knew it at the time, I couldn't stop laughing or crying the whole way up. Thankfully everyone was so intent on the task at hand and so concerned with their own feet that they didn't really notice my sniffles, chuckles and passionate conviction-filled steps. 


Fourth- We passed the huge group from Scotland. I mentioned Mary, the one with the sore throat I gave the lozenges to. It was one of the steepest and most discouraging parts of the trail when I saw her again. She recognized me and took off her sunglasses to reveal eyes full of gratitude and thanks. She seemed close to tears. "I've been looking for you in camp to say thank you! I can't thank you enough, I don't think I would've been able to summit today without those lozenges." Little warm and fuzzy moment to keep me going. 


The climb up to Stella Point was incredibly difficult for me. The weights tied to my hands and feet that I began to feel at about 16,000 feet were now huge boulders. It honestly felt like I was carrying an 80 pound pack up a never-ending hill while breathing out of a straw. It was essentially straight uphill in shale and gravel- it was hard to maintain footing and there were a few times I almost tumbled down the hill Princess Bride "Aaaas Yooooou Wiiiiish" style. 


At the top of Stella Point my breathing was really rapid and shallow. I could barely talk, which made sense because we were over 19,000 feet in the air. Stella Point is on the edge of the crater and is only about 45 minutes from Uhuru Peak- the actual top. I had to sit on a rock and catch my breath for quite a while. It was freezing cold and very windy. We were surrounded by incredible glaciers hundreds of feet high. Spectacular.

Glaciers near the top. These were enormous. 

We dropped our packs and continued without them. Sifuel stayed at Stella Point to watch our stuff and Frank continued with us. I was hesitant. I knew the top wasn't far and that the rest of the climb wasn't anything like our journey up to Stella Point (the path evened out quite a bit) but I had just tackled an incredible distance and altitude and I wasn't sure how I was going to get there. Every step seemed to take all of my energy and those boulders attached to my legs and arms were growing heavier and heavier.  Even sitting and resting I was breathing like I had just run a 5K at a dead sprint.  My heart was racing. 

Frank (left) and Sifuel (right) at the top of Stella Point. We were getting ready for the final ascent. 

The last 45 minutes were the hardest for me. The incline wasn't bad and the trail was fine but I simply couldn't breathe. It was a scary feeling. It took me ten minutes to walk 100 feet. My breathing was raspy, shallow, and quick. Dad and Frank helped me by holding on to my arms and helping me walk. I couldn't quite believe that we were almost at the top. It seemed unreal. I was scared by how hard I was breathing and how tired my body was. We were hiking through a thick cloud and we couldn't tell exactly what was ahead. But then I saw it... the sign. 


The sign that says "Congratulations, you are now at Uhuru Peak." As soon as that was in focus through the fog I began to run. Somewhere in my body was this store of extra energy I hadn't tapped in to and I was filled with adrenaline. On my ipod was "How Firm a Foundation"- my theme song in so many ways and at so many different parts of my life. 


Fear Not, I am with thee, oh be not dismayed. 
For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.
I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand
Upheld by my righteous omnipotent hand. 


The tears started right before I reached the sign. I fell to my knees- this moment symbolized so much to me. It wasn't about merely hiking to the top or climbing one of the tallest mountains in the world. I knelt there clutching the sign and cried and cried- out of gratitude, triumph, joy.

Happy tears at the sign. 

My Dad and I had made it to the very top of Mount Kilimanjaro. 

We did it!!

There is more to say, especially about the trip down which had it's own set of adventures and wasn't nearly as easy as I had imagined. There were some unexpected twists and turns but that will be in the next segment, along with wrap-up thoughts on what it all meant to me and why. Stay tuned!