#1. I'm totally out of shape. How do I know? Because surely 8.5 hours in a cave would not leave me this sore and moving around like an old lady. I have a new sense of sympathy for those with severe arthritis, because I imagine they must feel similar pain when trying to do basic things like sitting or standing or walking. Today for PE the girls skipped around the gym. I thought I was going to die.
#2. I found my niche for sporting activities. Spelunking has to be the best one I've tried so far. Where others have to crouch or crawl, I can stand upright. Where others struggle to fit through crevices or small spots, I can not only fit, but also change position. Being small has suddenly become a much more desirable and positive trait.
#3. Whoever invented helmets is due a huge huge debt of gratitude. My brains need all the help they can get, and the helmet I was provided with certainly saved the little brains I do contain in my noggin.
#4. It feels good to get so dirty now and then. I don't believe I've had so much mud on me in years. I was covered head to toe in mud and dirt. And just as it felt good to get dirty, it felt equally nice to take a SHOWER.
#5. It's amazing how easy it is to lose all sense of direction in a cave. Perhaps climbing over rocks and sliding through passages known as "Suicide Crawl" has something to do with this.
Ok, so Saturday had to have been the most awesome and epic expedition of my small life. I just loved the cave, and enjoyed exploring everything. I loved seeing the secret hidden things in the dark, the crystals that glowed like sparkles and little stars, the rocks that were so big and solid and the interesting formations on all sides. A 450 foot waterfall. I picked up white cave crickets and examined a bat at eye level. It was amazing and totally worth the effort. I love little places, and I like mysterious things. The cave was certainly both.
I can't wait to go again.
I can't help but smile because God thought to make caves hidden away.
When we were in the cave, we were sitting on a ledge with a huge room before us. We turned off the lights and sat in complete, deep, darkness. There was absolutely no light, nothing to see.
Then someone on the opposite side of the room flashed their light.
One small light pierced the darkness.
I've been thinking on this. Perhaps more later on the one small light.