Life

So… I’m in West Africa right now.

Everything is different- the people and the smells, the plants and the animals, the spoken English dialect and the church worship, the temperature and the star constellations, the degree of security and the standard of material living, the money system and the items in the local market.

God is the same.

I feel different because different things are important here. Clean water is valuable here so I am mindful of how I use it. In Michigan I live next to the largest fresh water lake system in the entire world so I may use water as I please. Here, relationships are the most important and dictate how time is oriented and used. In Zeeland, raw efficiency and productivity is the compass for how time is to be allotted and measured for success, whatever success means. I am relatively new and unknown in this place. At home, my history is known and there are shared common cultural assumptions. I am contemplative of the differences, yet some things do not change.

I am still asking the same questions of what matters in life. How can I best love God and love people? (By doing purposeful small things with great love.) What am I going to purposefully do next with this in mind? (Location, employment or lack thereof, formal or informal education, living situation, involvement in local and global church, specific social causes… vocation) Who am I doing to do this with? (Friends and family, spouse or alone) What is it that brings me deep peace, fulfilment, and passion in life? (Living in the love and peace that God offers, connecting deeply with people and God, empowering people to be more fully alive, learning and growing, having fun)

I can fill in many of the blanks, but worry about others, and always want to do my best at it. I am also convinced that it is the journey, not necessarily the destination that matters the most. Besides, it is silly to worry about the future so much that I neglect the only thing that I can actually affect: the present. I should spend my time celebrating how green the grass is here and not off over on the next hill, because I can only affect the grass standing between my toes anyway. Now, I sometimes feel: ‘if only I could go and do ______ , then my deepest inner desires will feel fulfilled’ but it hasn’t delivered yet. (Sarcastically) maybe next time!! I know that this won’t deliver, no matter how wonderful life is or could become, because in the end it comes from the inside, from the heart.

I accept and love God dearly. I accept and love the amazing people that have been placed in my life. I know with my mind and believe with my heart that God and people love me dearly, but I don’t always accept this and live this way.

When I live this way from the heart, with God and people, then I am free to live moment by moment in the purposeful journey (not the destination) and then the specifics of filling in the blanks don’t matter so much, because again, it is not necessarily the what, but how it is accomplished.



This journal entry was one for me and was not really written for others. But I’ll post it up here anyway, with the hope that some of it resonates with a few people and can be an encouragement.

Sunday Service and Presidential Visit

On Sunday I had the pleasure and honor of worshipping with an African church. I left feeling as if I was at home. Now, I guess that this is how I should feel wherever I gather with believers to worship God, but it still caught me off guard. And oh, they know how to worship! Where has this little church been my whole life!

We walked to a church in the neighbourhood that a few other Mercyshipers attend in our church clothes. I had on my sandals, cargo pants, undershirt, and a shirt with buttons to be proper. After weaving through a few of the small dirt streets we arrived at the building of the church. There were many friendly greetings and introductions, and then we were inside. As a sign of immense hospitality, we were invited (well, almost directed) to sit up in the front on the stage. Fortunately, a few of my new friends knew to politely decline and to insist on sitting in the back. And then, the service began.

I was so impressed with the manner with which we worshipped. The people were so excited to be there. The singing came from the soul and was powerful. There was much dancing accompanying the singing. A variety of people spoke and were also involved in the gathering. And again, the hospitality was remarkable.

At the beginning of the service, brand new visitors were asked to stand up. About fifteen Mercyshipers and ten locals stood up. What happened next still makes me smile upon recollection. We were asked to come up front. So, we did. Then, the entire church began to form a line to come and greet us and shake our hands as they sang and danced, worshipping God. I shook everyone’s hand in the church in this warm welcoming, except for the cute little kids who were a little shy to offer a hand up. What hospitality!

The offering was done in a similar way. We danced and sang as we all filed by the offering basket up front. We were joyful givers!

From all of this singing and dancing, it became a little toasty in our church. Add to this that it seems to always be hot here, that I was wearing long pants, and that I’m from Michigan, and you have one sweaty pig! The sweat that dripped off of my hair onto my cheek tickled as it trickled down. My back seemed to form a small river of the stuff too. By the end of the service, there was a Scott-sized bum print left on the wooden bench where I sat. It was an honor to worship with the body of Christ here in Liberia. I will look forward to next Sunday when I will be able to go again.

A few UN troops guard the dock

The motorcade arrives

The President stepping out of the car

In other news, the president of Liberia visited our vessel today! President Madame Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf came for a tour of the M/V Africa Mercy and to meet the crew. Security was quite tight! There were UN troops, police, and other government agents protecting the surrounding area. I am getting used to seeing assault rifles all over the place, but it still perks my attention when I see them. (After typing this last sentence, I looked down out the window to see a UN troop riding a children’s bicycle down the dock that resembles a Big Wheel with his assault rifle casually sitting in his lap.) Anyway, I was sitting directly in front on her, five rows back when she spoke to us! She set aside the speech that was written for her, to address us personally. She thanked us deeply for the work that we are doing, and that we do it in the way that we do. She impressed me. She was very kind, gracious, and articulate as she spoke to us. She is a brilliant woman and seems to be doing good things for this nation.

God is Good

The past four days have been so wonderful. God has been good to me. So much has happened in the last four days that they have become a blur to me. I have been on the go since our arrival. And through all of this, the peace in my heart has been very real.

I stepped out into the open air on deck seven of the M/V Africa Mercy on Wednesday morning at 5:30am to see the sunrise over Monrovia. The first thing that I noticed was that the air held a distinct smell. The air of Monrovia smells like a campfire of pine wood and pine needles with a hint of burning rubber. There were also a few dugout canoes with small sails out in the water. They were fishing. At a distance, we sighted the Anastasis, the vessel that we were sailing to meet. As we approached, it grew larger and larger. With time we could see all of the crew standing either next to the railings or on the dock. There were drums and singing and dancing. Once we were close enough, we cheered together. It was grand. There was much to celebrate; the Africa Mercy had finally arrived! So many people had waited so long and had worked so hard to make this happen.

Out on the dock I was reunited with a friend from college that I had not seen for two and a half years- Steph. I have been following her adventures with Mercy Ships in Ghana and Liberia through her blog for the last three months. She has helped me navigate the waters of the application process, but more than this, she has helped me prepare for living purposefully in this land. Later, in the evening, she guided me on a tour of the Anastasis, a ship that I have heard a great deal about, and finally was able to meet.

On Thursday, I devoured my first Mango here. The local people call them plumbs. I’m not sure why though. Oh, it was delicious. I say that I devoured it because by the end of my tastebud sensation, juice was dripping all over my hands, beard, napkin, and plate. Yum Yum.

In the afternoon, four of us ventured out into one of the local markets. Three of us were newbies. One of us had been in Liberia for quite some time. It was an experience riding with eight of us in a taxi the size of an old Nissan Sentra. The rest was a blur of sights and smells that words would do a dismal job of articulating. It is said that a picture is worth a thousand words. If I had some, I would offer them. Unfortunately it is better for me to not carry a camera with me when I go out, so I don’t. What I can say is that I’m learning a lot here, and have a long way to go.

In the evening the Mercy Ships crew came together to worship on the Anastasis one last time. It was a wonderful time of worshiping through singing, praying, and sharing where all the Anastasis has been for the last 25 or so years of missional service. Again, it was a time of celebration for the community here, and for me. I felt so at home and at peace as if I was at Cran-Hill Ranch or at the Gathering at Hope College or at Mars Hill. Afterwards we ate ice cream together and talked for a long time. It was good.

Yesterday I had the privilege of venturing out into a series of remote villages with Pam who works with our community development services here, and with Ann who was also along to learn. We visited a few wells that World Vision had helped the community dig and a few that Mercy Ships had coordinated as well. Beyond this, I am still processing everything that I saw and experienced. It is a lot for me. I will need more time. What I will say was that the people are so incredibly hospitable and genuinely friendly. And also, in the conversations that our group had we were asked on two occasions to pray for specific requests. One time was at the request of an amazing teacher in the village. He asked us to pray that as he teaches that the students will learn and be empowered. In particular, that those who were child soldiers would learn new ways and forget those other experiences. The other request for prayer was from a respected woman in the community who is suffering from Malaria right now.

Today I meandered through a different open market with Steph and four others. Again, the people here are so friendly. We had a great time people watching. On our way a few people purchased some cloth for clothes. We also picked up a few plumbs (mangos), coconuts, and tiny peppers that looked good. We bought our peppers from a little kid who was walking around with a basket on his head. When we asked how much they were, the little guy was quite confused. It was probably because of our funny American accents here. Anyway the confusion never left, but a little crowd of mostly children gathered. In the end, we offered to pay him too much (which wasn’t too much for us.) After we gave him the money, another child said that we had paid too much and gave us some of it back. In the end, Steph gave it to him to keep. I was amazed at how honest and straightforward the people were, everywhere. Everywhere we went, there was no bartering and no one inflated their prices for us because we were white. Many people saw us and immediately asked if we where from Mercy Ships. I asked one man, Alfred, how he knew that we were from Mercy Ships. He said that the Africa Mercy had arrived two days ago, and that he was waiting for us to make it out of the port. He said that last year his brother had been helped in an operation. Even our taxi driver who drove us home knew before we said a word. He said that he listens to the BBC here and that they told him about it. Also, about four times, groups of people would look at me and say ‘Jesus, Jesus’. They thought that I looked like Jesus! When I asked why, they replied that it was my hair. I would smile and tell them that ‘No, Jesus had dark skin like you’. But then fifteen minutes later, someone else would feel the same way. I just laughed. I must have looked Palestinian today.

I am well. I have a tremendous amount on my mind and heart right now, but God has been good to me. He has been very close the past few days. And for this, I am thankful.

Tomorrow will be my first day walking to an African Church. I am eagerly anticipating this with excitement.

Off the Coast of Liberia

Our crew is excited right now. I am excited right now, for in less than twelve hours we shall sail into Monrovia, Liberia. I cannot wait to step foot in Africa.

I feel at peace right now. Tonight we gathered on the bow of our vessel as the sun began to set into the deep blue sea. It was still. We worshipped. Singing and praying and gazing out over the still waters we worshipped the Lord in thankfulness. It was a special moment for our crew. It was a special moment for me. A peace sank in that has been absent for a week or so. It was, and continues to be, one of those times when everything just seems right, and in its place. A time to be gentle and humble, and thankful, because life is Good. I celebrate that my heart may be in this posture as a new chapter of this journey begins.

Sailing and Sea Legs

I have really enjoyed this whole sail. As time progressed, it kept getting better and better on the open seas. As we left Blyth there was the initial thrill of actually sailing. And then, the idea became a reality that I hadn’t yet grown my sea legs. I only had sea stumps. This became more interesting after leaving the Netherlands and sailing through the Bay of Biscay. I alluded that we hit some rough waters, but didn’t want to exaggerate anything.

Well, after the storm had passed, some information was shared with us that I felt would be worth passing along. We experienced “force 10 winds (55-63mph storm force winds with very high waves with long overhanging crests)”. I asked one of the experienced officers on duty to estimate the height of the waves. He guessed 5-7 meters. Also, our ship rocked aggressively from side to side because the waves were not hitting us straight on. We maxed out our roll from side to side at a whopping 27 degrees. (And this was before it shot across and rolled this far to the other side!) But sailing was not always this rough.

After the storm, the waters became still, the sun came out, and it became toasty out. And it has continued to get hotter and hotter ever since. I guess that the creatures in the ocean like it, because they keep coming out. I have seen lots of floating jellyfish by day, and glowing jellyfish at night. As our ship comes on them, they panic and try to scare us off by lighting up. As pretty as it is, it doesn’t work. They get even brighter as they are launched into the air by the water off the bow! I have also watched dolphins playing by the front of the vessel and splashing around, porpoises leaping out of the water, into the air, and landing on their sides, and three whales cruising along. It sent chills down my spine at first when I saw the dorsal fins flopping around in the water. I thought they were sharks. They sent puffs of mist up as they breathed. It looked like a the midst that comes out of a super soaker when it is out of water, only much more so. It sounds about the same too. And last but not least: flying fish. They also are startled when our ship bears down on them (I sure would be) so they get up speed and leap up out of the water and fly away like a paper airplanes. Some are little three or four inch ones. Others are probably about a foot long. Some are off by themselves. Others are in schools of ten or more. They are impressive.

I have enjoyed sailing and will miss the beauty of the open seas. After two weeks of it, I really don’t even notice the rocking any more, however gentle or rough it is. The problem will now be to make the land stop moving when I am firmly planted on it. I guess I have grown my sea legs after all.

A Photo Journal Of the Africa Mercy

The BBC created this photo journal of our vessel a few weeks ago. For a quick walk around my home, click here.

On My Bed

I cleared off my counter to create space for my brand-new-to-me old computer so that I may type. Looking around, I realize that I have a collection of tools here that I use often that shed some light on life on the Arica Mercy for me.

Purple bed spread. First I would like to note that I did not select the color of this puppy! It was chosen for me before I arrived. My bed spread is an English thing, a Duve'. The cover comes off with the loosening of a few buttons that it may be washed. The faithful Duve' has kept me warm in England, and continues to now that the air conditioning is turned on. I can now call my room 'The Icebox' again! This is a good thing

Bunk beds. That's right. I'll have a bunkmate one of these days.

Doxycycline tablets aka Anti-Malaria Meds. The rainy season is just beginning in Liberia. Besides, we're on the water. And the Ottawa County Public Health Department said that I wouldn't need anything... (Over a million people die of the disease every year.)

Alarm clock. 5:45am comes early every week day for me. (Well, this is actually quite late six time zones away, depending on how to look at it.) Good thing that my alarm clock is there to greet me.

Carpet fuzzies. Everything in my cabin is new, including the carpet. So, like Michigan sand after a day at the beach, there are blue carpet fuzzies on and in everything, except for my belly button. I don't have much of a bellybutton, and it has a hard enough time collecting lint, let alone carpet fuzz.

Head lamp. I used to hear that our ship got quite dark when the electricity went out. Then they tested the emergency generators. Now I know that it's really dark when they shut the power off. It is a little safety precaution.

Hand lotion. I wash my hands often while working in the galley. This keeps them nice and not chapped.

Digital camera. A wonderful tool to share memories with others on the other side of the Atlantic, to keep memories fresh, and to have fun with!

Battery charger. Power outlets provide electricity that alternates at 50Hz, not 60Hz like back home, hence a European style charger. This keeps my CD player and digital camera going.

Email address. People come and go with Mercy Ships as their time of service comes to an end. This is one of many email addresses that I have already collected as people leave.

Peanut butter sandwich. My late night snack. (It is gone now!) The Galley closes after dinner so the only way to have a mini-meal is to make it earlier in the day.
CD player with Jars of Clay CD. I really enjoy music. The band Jars of Clay has actually served with a group called Blood:Water Mission that works in similar places in Africa. Their songs resonate within me as they articulate many of the lessons I am learning right now specifically with regards to Africa and faith

A Brief History Lesson

I just returned from watching a documentary on the recent history of Liberia. Wow.

Fourteen years of civil war, beginning in 1989. I had just begun elementary school in 1989.

Charles Taylor. Anyone who has watched the movie Lord of War has seen a thinly veiled reference of him. His court date for for crimes against humanity is in a few weeks.

A peace agreement was reached in October 2003. I had just begun a year of service in La Villita, Chicago.

The first free elections were held in October 2005. I had just begun working as a youth pastor.

I have just begun the final stretch of this sail and will soon arrive in Liberia. A few days later the president of the country will come and visit us.

Try to wrap you mind around this present reality. Each year the Human Development Index ranks the world's countries according to their degree of development. Niger sits on the bottom of this list as number 177. Liberia hasn't made the list yet, because there isn't yet much to report. About 70% of the people in the country live off of less than one American dollar each day. About 80% of the population is currently unemployed. Monrovia used to be a war zone four years ago. The remaining bullet holes are a vivid reminder of this. There is need for food, clean drinking water, basic health care... an infrastructure.

The UN has established security with a peacekeeping force of about 17,000 troops. The United States has helped fund a large portion of this operation. In addition, I heard on the news a few months ago that we have forgiven Liberia whatever financial debt it owed the U.S. Now, the country was organized in 1847 when some liberated American slaves sailed to Africa to form this nation. I am told that to this day the people feel a close connection with America, like they are the 51st state.

Because of the security the UN provides, there is a community of Non-Government Organizations present who are serving with the people. Oxfam, Red Cross, Doctors Without Borders, and World Vision are a few familiar groups that Mercy Ships serves with in Liberia. I hear that they are doing beautiful things there and look forward to witnessing it firsthand.

I share all of the grim challenges of the country not to belittle it in any way but to articulate a few of the ways that it is different from back home. I would not want anyone to describe my home in this manner, especially someone who has never stepped foot there. I mean all of this in respect acknowledging that I have a great deal to learn. I simply hope to share what I learned tonight.

Canary Islands

The Africa Mercy in Santa Cruz as seen from the top of a tall hill

We arrived in Santa Cruz this afternoon. Decked out in shorts, sandles, and sunscreen, it was one small step for most of the crew…one giant leap for Scott off the gangway on to solid ground. By the way, they speak Spanish here! It was good to greet people with “Hola” and “Bueno” again.

This island was formed by a volcano so it is very tall and steep, and rocky. Just out the window at the top of the steps I climb in the morning is a large, relatively vertical hill. I decided to climb it. An hour later, I was through the town and up on the top of the hill. I appreciated observing the people and the culture in this place. In many parts, I felt like I was in Mexico again from the artecture, the spoken language, and the way that the houses were built so close to each other, and into the hillside. Today was a good day.

It was announced that we will be in Santa Cruz until Thursday morning. This gives us a chance to get the vessel ready for the final stretch of the journey, and an opportunity to take a day of rest on land one last time. This means that we should float into Liberia in a mere eight days! It will be a radical shift. Tomorrow is our last day of unrestricted water usage before we begin our rationing of water to arrive in Monrovia with as much as possible. Because we will need it. Besides, I imagine that any water that we do not need will end up coming out of a public water spicket in some neighbourhood with a line of people waiting with plastic buckets. Filtered water is still needed in Monrovia. Before this begins, I will take one last marathon shower tomorrow, and thoroughly enjoy it.

Here are my travels thus far. Blyth, England. Rotterdam, Netherlands. Santa Cruz, Canary Islands, Spain. Next stop: Liberia.

Here is where we current are parked for the moment.

"X" marks the spot.

Blue

I waved to Africa today. Morrocco to be more specific.

When the Africa Mercy sailed out of Blyth a hundred or so people came out to see us off. They waved at us. And we waved back. Its not so much that you wave to anyone in particular, but that collectively you wave back and forth. Its like being on a float in a parade where you wave rather aimlessly. Anyway, when we arrived in the Netherlands, it was the same thing. Waving. And I have continued this tradition of aimless waving for the fun of it. I waved goodbye to England, and to the Netherlands. I have waved to France, Portugal, Spain. And today for the first time: Morocco. Now, I haven’t technically seen the last four, but this is beside the point. They’re still there.

There is water everywhere. Blue everywhere. And it is beautiful. North, South, East, and West: just water. No other ships, or airplanes, or even airplane trails. It is great.

To the East

To the West

It is at times like this that I cannot help but realize how small I am here on Earth.

The Sail Continues

Europe has come and gone already. The last time I sat down to write I was skipping over wimpy waves down the East coast of England. Well friends, I am now lurching through the massive waves of the Bay of Biscay, where my computer mouse moves back and forth on it’s own to the sway of the ship, where the sun is setting to the West, where I can wave to France on the East, and where the wind and waves are so bad that we have been commanded to stay inside. But guess who was outside a little, gripping on to the railing above the bridge for sweet dear life a few hours prior to the announcement! What a rush.

The view out my window at the top of the steps

The Netherlands was a beautiful country from the few puzzle pieces that I saw of it. The people there were vibrant and alive. They dressed expressively, were hospitable, and were simply beautiful. Quick rundown on Rotterdam where I was: Rotterdam is Europe’s largest port. It was bombed to smithereens by the Germans in World War II. It was rebuilt and now has a remarkable infrastructure, architecture, and public transit system. Being in the Netherlands, everything is quite flat, like Iowa. The Africa Mercy pulled up right into downtown Rotterdam, next to it’s famous bridge, the Erasmus. It is the main artery into the city from the South.

Waiting patiently at a bicycle stoplight

On Sunday, I borrowed a bicycle from one of the local Mercy Ships volunteers and went for a three hour ride out of the city. In the Netherlands, they have black streets for the cars, and red streets next to them for bicycles. There are stoplights for both! It makes biking easy and fun. It was brief, but a good way to get a feel for the land. There are canals everywhere to drain the water that is then pumped back into the ocean to prevent the land from flooding. Much of it is below sea level!

It is now Thursday. We left on Tuesday. We hope to arrive in the Canary Islands off of Africa on Monday afternoon to refuel, stock up on fresh water, and to have the hull inspected by some divers! After this, we sail to Liberia. I do not know how long I’ll be a part of the crew. I’m not even exactly sure what my role will be. I do know that I am deeply excited for what lies ahead.

Waving Goodbye to England

We are sailing! As we plow through the water at 18 knots our home sways back and forth, back and forth. As a swift elevator seems to pull you down as it accelerates upwards only to let you float slightly as it the top of your assent before the doors open, so does the chair that I am now sitting. Twelve hours into it, I am beginning to get used to it. Earlier I was a little tired from it and laid down in my bed to take a brief siesta. I was surprised to find that even my bed sways to the rhythm of the waves. It makes complete sense, but I am just used to my bed being a place where everything stops when I turn out the lights, crawl under the soft covers, and sink my head into the pillow. When we walk in groups down the halls, we move to the left and right in unison like a school of fish. It is quite comical.
I waved goodbye to the coast of England today as we sailed out into the open waters.. Tomorrow we arrive in Rotterdam in the Netherlands. I will be close to the province of Zeeland, the motherland! I look forward to walking the streets. I expect the culture to be foreign, yet familiar. Krijin tells me that there are lots of tulips there.

I am well. I am tired on the inside, but have been able to have some good conversations with friends here, and will receive my day off tomorrow as a gift. Goodnight.

And Soon, We Will Sail

In less than twelve hours we sail. The crew is bubbling with excitement. I am ready for this. After dinner tonight we gathered as a crew for a celebration. Afterwards, I hiked up to the top of the vessel, above the bridge to overlook the city one last time, and to pray. This was a picture that I took. If you follow the massive wind generators down the port to the horizon, the last one marks the opening to the North Sea. Tomorrow we will row, row, row our boat, gently down the stream, turn right just pass the final propeller, and we’ll be on our way to Africa!

Sinking In

I am at a place now where this is becoming my home. I no longer feel as if I am on a vacation taking a trip to some foreign place. My former home on 15 E Central downtown Zeeland is just an empty house now devoid of the people and possessions that made it my home. In addition, I intend on staying now for at least another month with the Africa Mercy sailing through the Netherlands to Spain and ultimately to Liberia. Although I do not completely understand what awaits for me, for us, in Liberia, I am eagerly anticipating what it might be. If we pass all of the intrusive inspections and copious certifications we have been bringing upon ourselves, we will sail in two days… I stood up on top of the bridge last night in the quiet away from the bustle of the engines below. Overlooking the quiet city lights and still waters my mind and heart wandered through much of this as it all sank in- the stepping stones of the past four years up to this point, the present transition of this becoming home, and the anticipation of what could be the future in Liberia.

Earlier in the evening I watched a football match (soccer) on deck three with Rodrigo. Deck three is the hospital. We were undergoing a test of the emergency generator so most of the lights were off along with the majority of the electricity sockets. Being resourceful chaps, we meandered downstairs to the hospital ward where there are vital outlets for vital medical equipment that stay on when our power fails, for vital times, times such as this! We ran a 75 meter extension cord from our precious outlet down the hall in the direction of our secondary goal: television reception. In the cargo hold we opened one of the deck’s few opening portals to hang our bunny eared-antennae out. With much fidgeting and a 30 meter antennae cord later, we watched our semi-final match in a medical examination room on the doctor’s stools.

On one hand, I am in England where we have an abundance of fresh water. We can go to the store if we need any sort of food for the galley. It is quite a materially developed place. On the ship I do not have much space to call my own, but my needs are more than met. When this puppy docks in Monrovia, my cabin will stay the same, and so will the vessel, but the external surroundings will be drastically different. We will likely have to ration our water. Three minute showers. One load of laundry every other week. It will be hot there. It will smell differently. Our ship and crew will begin to do what it was intended for.

This means that on deck three, the exam rooms, operating theatres, and wards will continue to be rapidly setup for the next few weeks. The stuff being stored there will be moved elsewhere. Equipment will be setup, sterilized, and calibrated. The rooms will cease to be a potential location for resourceful football watching because patents in need will begin to flow, and then flood through. And this is a good thing.

It is a transition for our ship, and for me. In my mind and heart I am getting used to this ship being my home just as it moves again. England is one place for it to be. Liberia is another. I began this journey in anticipation of learning from and being changed from people in Africa. I also began this journey to serve with, and to serve, Mercy Ships- an organization of people seeking to creatively, intentionally love others holistically. I am here to interact with people who live very differently materially and socially than what I call ‘normal’ for myself. I am excited yet fearful of this. It is unknown. It will mess with me in everyway. It will not feel warm-and-fuzzy good. But it will be Good. A new step of this journey, this race will begin.

I feel like I am standing on the starting line of a distance race- butterflies in my chest, adrenaline shooting jitterly through my muscles, chills in my shoulders, heart racing and pausing, racing and pausing. My mind rehearsing what the course looks like noting the mile markers. I have trained for this voyage with Mercy Ships over and over studying social justice and life and faith in school, living in intentional communities, engaging my neighborhood in Chicago, and giving what I had at First Reformed Church. Wonderful people have been placed in my life at every step of the way. And God has been good to me, guiding me every step of the way, and has taught me a great deal about myself and life and what really matters.

(pause)

So, after having typed all of this, I realize that it may sound a little dramatic, but it’s what I’m working through right now. Some days are wonderful here. Some are tough. Some are both. Some are neither. It’s more fun to post fun pictures and stories because then you’re not putting yourself out there. But this is where I am right now. I hope that is connects with where you are at.

For more on what may lie ahead in Liberia, feel free to check out my friends blog at http://africaahoy.blogspot.com. (Guess where the idea for this blog’s name came from!) Steph has been in Liberia with Mercy Ships for a month now and has written two particularly poignant entries on April 23.

I thank you for following along, for your support, and for your prayers in this journey.