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.