I love traveling. If you’ve read many of my blog posts, you probably know that. But with traveling comes my arch nemesis: jet lag. Now, I should clarify that this post is not going to give you a lot of tips about how to deal with jet lag. There are lots of resources already available for practical things to do: drink lots of water, eat your meals at the appropriate times, don’t take naps, among others. Those are all good things to do, but the fact is that shooting our bodies forward 13 hours into the future is going to cause some fallout. That fallout is what I want to wrestle with in this post.
Sometimes, jet lag doesn’t bother me. Sometimes after a few days of waking up at 4 or 5, my body readjusts, and I’m right back to seeing people, having fun, living life, and doing work that I’m passionate about. Other times, I wake up at 3 a.m. every other day, can’t keep my eyes open past 8 p.m., and feel like an existential crisis is just around the corner (or perhaps right on top of me). I’ve also met people who claim that jet lag doesn’t bother them. If you are one of those people, congratulations, and just know that I’m working hard to not be envious of you and this incredible blessing–please don’t rub it in.
I traveled from Kansas, USA back to my home in southern China. This period of jet lag has not been easy. On top of that, I got a cold. So all I want to do is sleep, and I either can’t sleep because I’m jet lagged, or I shouldn’t sleep because I’m jet lagged. What a mess.
Jet lag feels like a reminder of my own weakness and frailty as a human. Humans have managed to send ourselves to the other side of the globe in a day rather than spending months on a boat. I wonder if it’s still possible to take a boat. How long would that take? Would it be easier on my body or would the seasickness end up being worse in the end?
According to a quick Bing search, most shipping from Guangzhou to LA is for cargo only. It seems there is limited availability for passengers, and it must be booked in advance. No information was given about how to book that passage. There is quite a bit of information about sending a container, so perhaps you could send yourself in a container, but you probably wouldn’t pass customs. Also, that doesn’t seem very safe or advisable. Just a note–I don’t think shipping a person in a container is a good idea.
So, we’re stuck with air travel. Don’t get me wrong—I’m thankful for air travel that makes it possible for me to go home to see family and friends much more easily than spending 6 months on a boat. But the jet lag….
Jet lag feels dark. Aside from the mud in my mind, I spend a lot of time looking out my window in the hours before sunrise. Actually, I try to avoid keeping my curtains open if it’s dark out and I have my light on. Since I live near a mountain, bugs always manage to find a way in if they see the light. I thought it would be ok one morning, but after a few minutes, I heard a buzzing and looked around to see a weird bug on the floor. He headed up toward my light, and I closed the curtains. They weren’t the kinds of house guests I wanted. I finally got the chance to smash him. Then I was back to no house guests.
Jet lag also feels like a lot of waiting. Waiting for morning. Waiting for friends to wake up. Waiting for this horrible time to pass. It feels like a test of endurance. I know it will end. I know that a time will come when getting up at 6 a.m. feels like torture rather than a blessing (after all, 6 is better than 3 a.m. or even 5 a.m.), but it sure is hard while it lasts.
Before I left the States, a friend gave me a book about waiting called Waiting Isn’t a Waste, by Mark Vroegop. If you’re in a period of waiting, and let’s be honest, who isn’t?, this book is excellent.
I am often tempted to waste my waiting by responding in anger, disappointment, or just giving up. But I don’t have to respond that way to my waiting. Waiting doesn’t have to be a time of twiddling my thumbs, doing nothing in the time before something happens (or doesn’t happen). Waiting can be a time where I focus my mind on who God is. I can praise him and thank him for the many blessings He has given me.
I’m thankful to be back in my own bed. I’m thankful to be inside out of the rain. And it’s been very rainy lately. I’m thankful for friends that are willing to spend time with me when my brain is foggy. I’m thankful for God’s truth that encourages me to keep my eyes on Him.
The other day, I was reading Psalm 81. Verse 1 says, “Sing for joy to God our strength; Shout joyfully to the God of Jacob.” I had a horrible sinus headache behind my eyes, and I had been awake since around 4 a.m. I didn’t feel at all like singing, much less like singing for joy. But my physical weaknesses reminded me of how incapable I was, and the verse didn’t say that I had to sing in my own strength. I could sing because God is my strength.
I’m still not over jet lag, so I still get some chances to practice waiting on God, focusing on who He is in this period of recovering. I still don’t particularly enjoy this experience, but I’m thankful for the fellowship I have had with my Savior in the early morning hours when the rest of the city is asleep (except for the bugs).
And I’m thankful for reminders that God never sleeps (Psalm 121:4). That means that God never has jet lag. It also means that He is awake when no one else is awake. I’m also thankful that God is my rock (Psalm 18:1-2). I can rest in Him because He is strong and secure–even when I am not.
How do you deal with the challenges and struggles of jet lag? Not the tips and tricks to recover physically but the things you remember when you are mentally and emotionally at the end of your rope? I’d love to hear your ideas and thoughts!