Sophie Hudson - Stand All the Way Up: Stories of Staying In It When You Want to Burn It All Down

Copyright 2020 by Sophie Hudson

All rights reserved.

Printed in the United States of America

978-1-4336-4313-2

Published by B&H Publishing Group

Nashville, Tennessee

Dewey Decimal Classification: 248.84

Subject Heading: CHRISTIAN LIFE / SELF-CONFIDENCE / FAITH

Unless otherwise noted, all Scripture quotations are taken from the Christian Standard Bible, Copyright 2017 by Holman Bible Publishers. Used by permission. Christian Standard Bible and CSB are federally registered trademarks of Holman Bible Publishers.

Also used: English Standard Version ( esv ), ESV Text Edition: 2016. Copyright 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers.

Also used: New International Version ( niv ). NIV Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Cover design and illustration by Alexandra Bye/Astound.

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For David

You lived this book with me,

and I couldnt have written it without you.

Im so glad we get to stand all the way up together.

Introduction

All Manner of Monkey Business

K enya, as it turned out, knew exactly what was up.

Kenya the country. Not Kenya Moore of Real Housewives of Atlanta fame, though I would be delighted to pay her a visit as well.

A couple of summers ago my son, Alex, and I went to Kenya (more about that later), and on the next to last day of our trip, we flew on a very tiny airplane to the Maasai Mara National Reserve.

For the record, there is nothing that encourages some deep reflection regarding your personal relationship with Jesus Christ like flying on a very tiny airplane. I daresay it might result in something resembling personal revival.

The plane, thankfully, landed safely, and we set out on a safari ride just minutes after we walked off the dirt runway. For a couple of hours we ooohd and aaahd over elephants and buffaloes and giraffes, and sometime around noon, we checked in at the place we were staying. It was actually an open-air lodge (heres a hot tip: whenever someone uses the phrase open-air, thats code for air-conditioning is unavailable), and our rooms were understated but stunning tent structures. There was a wood floor and a bathroom in each tent, but the vaulted ceiling and back wall were canvas. This is why I am somewhat tempted to say that we were glamping, but that would mean that I have to use the word glamping, so no.

After we hung out at the lodge for a few hours and freshened up (and by freshened up I mean plugging in my tents hair dryer next to the bed and pressing the cool button for a half hour or so because FAN), we went on a second safari ride at dusk.

Heres what I have to say about that: Kenya, you are stunning.

You, too, Kenya Moore.

We headed back to the lodge after sunset (no joke: we actually had to wait for an elephant to get out of the middle of the road, and I am so sophisticated that all I could do in that moment was fight the urge to repeat WEL-COMEto JURASSSSSSIC PARK until someone threw me off our truck). Our groupnine of us, I thinkwent to dinner in the lodges dining room, and I had just started to eat my potato and leek soup when one of the lodges managers approached our table.

Im so sorry to interrupt, he said softly, in the most lovely, lilting Kenyan accent, but which of you is staying in number 27?

I continued eating my soup because I had no idea who was in number 27until Alex tapped my knee and whispered, Mama. Were in 27!

Oh! I responded. Were in 27!

My friend Shaun immediately put his head in his hands and started to laughbecause he had the good sense to know that if the manager was at our table, this was bound to be the beginning of a really good story.

Maam, the manager continued, if I may ask you a question: do you have any medication that you might need in 27? Anything valuable?

Rain was falling in sheets outside, and since we were in an open-air dining area, I was having a little trouble hearing what the manager was saying. I thought maybe I misunderstood.

Im sorry? I said. Medication? You want to know if I have any medication? This struck me as an odd line of questioning.

Well, maam, he replied very calmly, it would seem, you see, that the, um, monkeys have gotten into your tent.

This part I heard loud and clear.

What? I asked, likely way too loudly. THE MONKEYS?

Shauns head was now on the table. He was done.

Yes, maam. The monkeys. And I wanted to make sure that you didnt have any medication in your bagsanything you might need before you go home.

I looked at Alex with my mouth hanging open, like somehow that was going to help me know what to say next. Finally I found my words.

Well, Im not worried about medication, but our passports? Im very worried about our passports. We are going to need our passports.

We were flying home the next day, and all I could picture was a massive troop of monkeys, frolicking in the grassy area behind our tent, gleefully ripping our passports to shreds in the rain.

Yes, maam, my good friend the manager replied. Of course. Your passports. We have sent someone down to clean up the mess, but when you go back to your tent, please be sure to check your things and make sure your passports are there. Anything else, maam?

He smiled as he said all of this. Because, you know, it was just an average Wednesday in the Maasai Mara.

Just one thing, I replied, if you dont mind me asking: how in the world did the monkeys get in our tent?

Oh! he answered excitedly. The monkeys are very clever!

Sure. Of course they are. Those clever, industrious monkeys.

By the way, Shaun was almost passed out from laughter at this point. He had shifted to somewhere between the table and the floor while I, on the other hand, looked like I was the current national titleholder in the Blank Stare competition. I was not amused.

The manager went on to explain that the monkeys knew how to unzip the canvas windows, and apparently one of the windows in our tent had an unsecured zipper (which, as we all know, will always get you into trouble, but thats another topic for another time).

About twenty minutes later, when the rain had tapered off a bit and I had sufficiently pushed my food around my plate while I fretted about our passports, Alex and I walked down to our tent. Thankfully, everything looked normal. I had expected pillow feathers all over the floor and a monkey perched on the bathroom counter, eating our toothpaste, but apart from the fact that our bags were in slightly different places, everything looked almost like it had when we left for safari. I checked for our passports, and they were still tucked into the suitcase pocket where I left them, oh hallelujah.

I noticed that Alexs Dallas Cowboys cap had been moved to the other side of the room (I had no idea that Dak Prescott was so popular with Kenyan wildlife, but it stands to reason that his appeal is international), and when I picked it up, I saw one lone, semi-smashed pistachio shell underneath.

I got so tickledand immediately understood that I had unknowingly and unintentionally lured the monkeys into our tent. I had packed a bag of pistachios just in case the food on safari wasnt great or we needed a snack, but I had no idea that our bag of Great Value pistachios would be such irresistible bait.