Last Leg (and last blog): Christchurch & Rangiora :)

Tuesday-Thursday, 25-27 November

Dad and I woke up early to check out the sunrise on the pier. It looked like the sky might clear over (it didn't). 

Oamaru at sunrise.

I packed up the tent for the last time (after my dad graciously washed it out for me) while dad unpacked his panniers for return and repacked things into his duffle bags for the trip north. We had a nice breakfast and coffee at a cafe in town and then walked my bike, balancing bags on top, down the road to the bus stop where we caught our ride to Christchurch.

Thus begins a part of the trip I had been greatly anticipating long before I even started this trip.

In Christchurch, JULIE's dad Lindsay was patiently (I think?!) ;) waiting to pick us up at the bus stop.  It was SO great to finally meet him after all I've heard about him from Julie. We packed everything, bike and all, into his car and then he took us for a drive through Christchurch. I had been forewarned by many that, even though it has been nearly 4 years since the major earthquakes hit, Christchurch was still a very "broken" city.

Despite the forewarnings, what I saw I didn't expect: everywhere I looked there were reminders of the devastation that fell on this city.

Wide-open empty spaces were in the most unlikely places, broken and abandoned buildings still standing were supported by steel posts and big box cars and were, in many cases, gutted and open to the elements. Cracks in walls, rifts in roads, buildings still marked for demolition. It was a sobering sight.

And yet, despite the destruction, there are signs up hope and resilience. Where a mall once stood, a community of businesses - including restaurants, upscale clothing stores, coffee shops and even commercial banks - have set up shop in brightly painted box cars that create a vibrant space for people to meet and hang out. Homes are being built for people who lost theirs, and businesses are slowly reviving. 

After our introduction to Christchurch, we headed to Rangiora!

Two coffee mugs greeted us in the kitchen when we arrived at Julie's home. Her mom Alison is amazing... she thinks of all the details and welcomed us into her home as family. For dinner she made - get this - fish amok (an incredible spiced coconut curry fish dish - a true Cambodian specialty), and we enjoyed getting to know the Kerrs over a very tasty meal (and good NZ wine, I might add). 

The dads :)

He's really gotten good at selfies...!

Fish amok... and asparagus!!!

I had a wonderful sleep in Julie's comfy bed (nice change from the sleeping bag which was utilized the previous 5 nights), and woke up to Wednesday refreshed and renewed, ready to help dad conquer his shopping list.

The first thing we did, though, was give my bike a cleaning (again, thanks dad!!) before we took it to the shop in the morning where I sold it back to the company I bought it from. It was a good, faithful bike and it served its purpose very well - but it isn't quite what I'd want to have in Cambodia, so better to let her go. :)

After the bike shop, Alison and sweet Lauryn (Julie's niece who I have seen so many pics of!), took us to some very nice Merino wool shops... if I lived in a cold climate I would have been in BIG trouble in those stores - particularly one of them... and Alison you know which store I'm talking about! (Bill Clinton google search haha) ;)

So dad made some nice purchases for the females in his life (if any of you don't like what you get, please think of me), and then we had some lunch, more shopping, and then a ride through Christchurch back to Rangiora. Such a lovely day!

One, two, threeeeee!! :)

The cardboard cathedral designed by a Japanese guy (above) and 185 white chairs in remembrance of those who died in the earthquake.

Back home, Alison prepared a feast: a true American Thanksgiving dinner on the eve of our Thanksgiving Day. Incredible. She made turkey and stuffing, potatoes, gravy and cranberry sauce... nothing was missing! And Julie's whole family came over for dinner. So great to meet her brother Jeff and his (American!) wife Lindsey, and their two kids Jordan and Lauryn. Such sweet kids :) Even Julie's Aunt Philppa (who lived for many years in the US) joined us.

Dinner was made complete with an excellent pumpkin pie (really, so so good Alison!). MOST of us really liked it... although some of us weren't as interested in a dessert made with a vegetable... ;)

Yum!!

And that's it. The next morning - Thursday - Lindsay and I took my dad to the airport at 4am. Crazy that our two weeks together had come to an end. In a way it was nice that dad's flight was so early... too sleepy yet to think too much about having to say goodbye, not knowing when I'll see him next. In any case, he's usually the emotional one at times like these.... ;) We said goodbye, and off he went.

Although it was early, I really enjoyed talking with Lindsay during the ride back to Rangiora. Dads are special. My dad means the world to me - I wouldn't be who I am today if it weren't for my dad. And I know Julie's dad means the world to her, too, so it was really cool to spend that time with someone who means so much to such a great friend. Thanks Lindsay. :)

Back home, I got to spend my last day in NZ with Julie's mom, and what a privilege that was! A whole day with an amazing mom - I never get that! :) Alison had been checking in with me since week 1 - sending me text messages to see how I was doing and where I was. She connected me with friends and gave me lots of encouragement along the way. That meant a lot Alison - thank you!!

This last morning we got to pray and thank God together - for life, safety, our families, this adventure, each other, and for Julie. As I write about this weeks later I'm tearing up...let's see how far I can get without embarrassing myself in this cafe...! :) Praying with Alison, I think it was at "Dear Jesus" that I lost it already (sorry I didn't give you a fair warning Alison!) :)

The last couple of days in Rangiora I found myself feeling quite emotional every time I reflected on the trip - on the places I'd been, people I'd met, things I've experienced, the time I had with my dad, on Julie's friendship and all she and her family had done for me on this journey, and on where I was - both physically and personally - at that moment. I found it a true honor to be with Julie's family and to be so taken care of and loved at such a time. I felt humbled, privileged. This whole trip... what WAS it? What was it for? Did I really just do all that? Did I deserve to take that much time off work and spend so much money on, well, bicycling around a country for two months?? What was the whole purpose of this crazy ridiculous incredible adventure? Did there even need to be a purpose?

Five weeks into my trip I wrote about how at one point I had to stop and spend a day to reflect on what I was doing and why I was doing it. At that point I started to feel a bit guilty about doing something so seemingly selfish: I wasn't exactly helping anyone or doing anything meaningful on my bicycle, and I was sure spending a lot of time and money doing lots of fun things for myself. For someone who always feels the need to be doing something productive and of perceived value to myself and others, it was an uncomfortable feeling to have.

But in talking to God about it - about what I was doing in NZ on a bicycle - I realized that the guilty feeling I was starting to feel was actually nothing but a temptation (i.e. a feeling not from God). As I was listening for God to tell me something about what I was doing and trying to decide if I had been all-too selfish in taking up this endeavor, this is what came to my mind: "It's all a gift Karen."  A pure, simple gift. And that's what it was, what it felt like. And aren't gifts meant to be, well, good?

And that's when it hit me: I didn't deserve any of this.

Yes, I earned the money. I put the time into planning. I climbed all those hills. Maybe I did "earn" some of it. But when I think about it, the ability to carry out a feat like this - physically, financially, emotionally - a lot of it actually has very little to do with me. It's truly by the grace of God I was born with and still have all my limbs and the health to complete a 2200+km ride over two islands covered with hills (true confession: my greatest fear in life is losing a limb...!). By the grace of God, I'm in a place in my career where I get to do what I absolutely love doing in a place I love, and make money doing it. By the grace of God, and God alone, I am built with the desire and determination to do things like sell toilets in Cambodia and ride a bike on NZ roads - alone (although I suppose some might see that less as grace and more as a curse... perspective! haha).

So if my 2 arms and 2 legs, and the opportunity to work with and learn from Scott (my mentor) in Cambodia, and my personality and inherent hunger for adventure and challenge didn't come from me, then maybe some of the fun, joy and awe I experienced on this trip didn't either.

I see these last two months as one massive gift - an utterly undeserved gift, given out of pure love for me. And that's what grace is. And it's something I'm learning that God is really good at giving. His grace is that overwhelming feeling you get when you're at the top of the mountain looking back down over where you've come from - after flying up in a helicopter or arriving at the top dripping sweat with sore legs. His grace is having a dad who would accept an invitation to fly to the other side of the world to meet his daughter, only to be dropped off in the middle of nowhere with a bike and a 100km  ride to the nearest town (with only a tent to sleep in...). His grace is the ability to live life to the fullest, despite hardship, sickness, earthquakes, death, and unasked for change and pain. His grace is friends to pray with. His grace is turquoise Lake Pukaki with the sun shining through the clouds and mountains in the distance. His grace is a full day tasting Sauvignon Blanc wine in Marlborough and a night at a show with a new friend and generous host. His grace is a stranger popping her head in a police car just as you receive a $250 ticket from a crabby policeman for riding on a freeway in the rain - and that stranger then inviting you into her house for hot tea and a warm shower. His grace is a friend to start the journey with.

His grace is sometimes scary and difficult to receive, because it means I have to admit that there are just some things I can't do for myself, or by myself. But in the end, his grace is worth receiving. It's a gift - a very good one you can never feel guilty about.

Conclusion
Ok, I really don't have a conclusion. I guess I'll just quick apologize to some of you reading who find what I wrote above either sappy or confusing (ok, yes, so it's technically both...).  I hope, at the very least, it gives you some insight to how I think and feel. :) I guess the other thing I want to end this with is simply: THANK YOU. Thank you, whoever you are, for reading. If you've made it this far with me in my journey, I am sincerely humbled that you would care to follow this far and am amazed that you would be bothered to do so. But you did, and that means a lot to me, so thank you. As a person who many who know me would describe as (somewhat) fiercely independent, I am, more and more, coming to the conclusion that I amount to very little on my own, and need both God and people around me to help me grow and get by in this life! Thank you to each of you for being one of those people I get to continue this journey with, cause it definitely is not stopping here!!