Back Through the Wardrobe!

 

It has been 466 days since I was last onboard the Africa Mercy. It’s been a crazy, hard, lovely, wonderful, rough, confusing, blessing of a “forced furlough.” In the last 466 days I have visited 22 states, 15 national parks and flown on 33 flights. Today I board my 34th flight and I’ll be flying away from my home and flying back to my home at the same time! 

Today I step back through the wardrobe. In the Chronicles of Narnia,  Lucy finds Narnia by stepping through a wardrobe. I find Narnia by stepping onto a plane and up a gangway. I have on multiple occasions compared living onboard the Africa Mercy to living in Narnia. In many ways it seems like it’s own world with its own traditions, history, and story. 

- The adventure that every day promises

- The significance of what we are fighting for

- The colorful characters we meet along the way

- The funny way time passes and causes you to feel that you’ve known other crew members a lifetime after only a week

- Seeing Aslan, I mean God, face to face, almost touching him

These all make living onboard feel a bit like Narnia. 

I feel for Lucy and Edmund when they must leave a place like that…a place that is sometimes hard and scary, but nevertheless feels like a “thin place” where Heaven and earth almost touch. 466 days ago I left the Africa Mercy and it has been hard, lovely, sad, joyful, confusing, exhilarating, frustrating, and the greatest blessing of a year (well, 15 months actually). I have absolutely loved spending time with family and friends, going to the beach, visiting national parks, being able to attend weddings and funerals (ok, I didn’t love that last one, but I needed to be home for them), teaching Kids On Boarding for Mercy Ships, cheering at Charles and Kaylee’s t-ball games, and living life again here in my home in the USA. Time and time again God has shown me why it was important for me to be here this year. I love being here. My heart is here. But my heart is there as well, in Narnia, on a ship in the Canary Islands. I’ve prayed for the crew onboard, I’ve FaceTimed and written to let them know that they are not forgotten, I’ve written a book about teaching onboard, I’ve cried over memories, I’ve sung songs that remind me of being there, I’ve trolled the photos on navigator looking for familiar faces, and I’ve yearned and longed to be back. I think this must be how the children felt when they were away from Narnia. 

So, after 466 days away, it’s finally time to return. And as I do, I want to begin this new adventure (or is it continuing an old adventure?) with the end in mind. There’s a quote from Voyage of the Dawn Treader when Lucy realizes she can’t come back to Narnia and Aslan tells her, “In your world, I have another name. You must learn to know me by it. That was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there.”  I often write that quote in my letters to friends who are leaving the ship because, as hard as ship life can be, it also affords us a glimpse of God that I’ve never found anywhere else. I think He reveals Himself to us onboard in such a beautiful, tangible way so that we might know him better for all the days we have after our Mercy Ships chapters are closed. 

I’m thrilled to start this journey back into Narnia, but I don’t want to let a day pass without realizing the blessing of living onboard, because someday I won’t be living here. I know what it’s like to leave the ship, both voluntarily (when I left for a year to teach in Houston) and forced (by a pandemic). I also know what it’s like to return. Like when the Pevensie children go to and return from Narnia, it’s a hard transition no matter how you slice it. They know the joys, the hardships, and the blessings of living in both worlds and as I walk back onboard, I want to choose to remember every single day to revel and delight in the fact that I get to live in this “thin place” for a while, and that when the day comes to step back out again, that I will know God better because I did. 

The last way that living onboard reminds me of living in Narnia is that Aslan tells us, “Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen of Narnia. In the same way, “Once a Mercy Shipper, always a Mercy Shipper.”

So, if you’re a new crew member about to set foot onboard for the first time, buckle up, and welcome to the “thin place!”

If you’ve been a Mercy Shipper, but aren’t going back, and even if you never set foot onboard again, she will always be a home for you. Once a Mercy Shipper, always a Mercy Shipper! 

And if, like me, you are a crew member who is finally coming back after what seems like forever (or 466 days as the case may be), welcome back! Welcome home! 

Some Things Never Change

 I’ve said in previous posts that the Frozen II songs are the soundtrack of this year for me. It’s crazy how each phase of this season is exemplified by a song from that soundtrack! Am I the only one who thinks this?!? Maybe, but that’s ok, because I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, God speaks to me through Disney movies!

A little over a year ago I decided that “Into the Unknown” was going to be the theme song of the year for me as I decided to go to the Global Mercy  instead of back to my home on the AFM. Little did I know how deeply into the unknown I was about to be plunged when COVID hit and I had to suddenly leave our country as well as many friends and go into quarantine for 81 days onboard before I flew back to the USA. 

That anthem transitioned for me from “Into the Unknown” to “The Next Right Thing” in the fall. I was so deep into the unknown as my return date changed from October to January to April, that all I could do was the next right thing which was just in front of me. For the majority of this “forced sabbatical” year I’ve only had a plan for about two weeks at a time so it was really a matter of living each day where I was and being ok not knowing what was coming next. I just needed to do the next right thing and walk where God led.

Well, clearly we’re passed April now and I’m still here in the USA so I’m still just doing the next right thing, but at the same time I’m settling into a new phase of this season and a new anthem. At the beginning of the movie, Anna sings a song called, “Some Things Never Change” and she sings about how, even as the seasons are constantly changing around her, some things stay the same. Later on in the movie Olaf comments, “You said some things never change, but since then, everything has done nothing but change.”  I feel you, Olaf! Since last March it certainly seems that everything has done nothing but change. My brother-in-law asks me every couple of weeks what the plan is and every time he asks, it seems that I have something different to tell him. Even I get confused trying to remember and relay to him what the current plan is. A week ago I received the news that everything was changing again:

-The ship I’m going back to has changed

-The grade I will be teaching might change

-The country I’m going back to has changed

I don’t feel ready to share the details yet because if I share them, they very well may change again, but I’ll get back to you on that. I am hoping to head back to the AFM after the summer and I’ll share more as things get finalized.

The thing about everything changing all the time is that is brings into focus the things that don’t. Anna is right, some things never change. God’s love doesn’t change. God’s provision for me doesn’t change. My desire to serve with Mercy Ships hasn’t changed. My tears of joy and sadness when I hear songs like Waka Waka or Jabulani Africa haven’t changed. The drive of everyone in this organization to get back to Africa hasn’t changed. 

We’ll get there. I may not know what country I’ll be in, or when I will fly, or which ship I’ll be on, or what I’ll be teaching exactly, but it’s good to know that in the midst of all that, some things never change. 

Introducing...

 

She's the largest civilian hospital ship in the world; she'll house over 600 crew; she will more than double our  capacity to serve; she's 174 meters, 37,000 tons, with 6 operating theaters and 199 hospital beds; and she's almost here! 

She's the Global Mercy (and she's going to be my new home)! 

Here are a few pictures of her at different stages of development:

The Next Right Thing...

For the first time in ten years, I didn’t have a back to school night this year. I didn’t label folders or make a new clip chart or mix up jitter-glitter for my littles to put under their pillows the night before school starts. I don’t have a classroom of littles waiting for me every morning this fall, and while that is bitter sweet for me, there’s an emphasis on the sweet in this season.

I spent the summer digging holes at the beach with Kaylee, chalk painting the front sidewalk with Charles, rocking Emery to sleep, visiting my 50th state (North Dakota), and spending time with all the friends and family I possibly could! 

It’s been a whirlwind of change and waiting (how waiting can feel like a whirlwind is beyond me, but it definitely can) to find out what my role with Mercy Ships is going to look like in this season as dates for everything seem to be in constant flux. As the summer has drawn to a close I have continued traveling to visit my people, but I'm also doing what I can to be a help to Mercy Ships Academy in this season, which so far has looked like being a part of an informational webinar, speaking to an online school faculty about opportunities with the Academy, as well as writing blog posts and social media posts for the Academy. 

I found out this morning that yet another plan that I had for this already confusing season has been changed/cancelled. I keep thinking, "oh THIS is why God has me where I am in this season...to do THIS" and then "this" gets cancelled and I'm back to questioning and confusion. As I thought and prayed about that today, you know what came to mind? 

A scripture? 

A parable? 

A worship song you might wonder? 

Nope. A disney song, of course. 

In the spring, when I decided to commit to going to the new ship, the Global Mercy, I wrote about how "Into the Unknown" was going to be the anthem for this year. How true that would become when a month later we were thrown headlong into the chaos of leaving our host country due to covid and quarantining onboard for 81 days (for me...some people are still onboard today who have not been able to leave our dock space for over 200 days).

Well I think the anthem/theme of this year is now transitioning through the Frozen 2 soundtrack because the song that came to mind today as I thought and prayed about this season was "The Next Right Thing." If you haven't heard it, go listen. Right now. I'll wait...............good? Good! So, this song delves deep and dark, and I don't feel that hope is gone like Anna does (this is actually a particularly lovely season of rest for me despite the confusion), but the end of the song is a kicker. It says,  

"I won't look too far ahead

It's too much for me to take

But break it down to this next breath, this next step

This next choice is one that I can make

So I'll walk through this night

Stumbling blindly toward the light

And do the next right thing

And, with it done, what comes then?

When it's clear that everything will never be the same again

Then I'll make the choice to hear that voice

And do the next right thing"

I want that. Today I want to make the choice to hear HIS voice and do the next right thing.

Into the Unknown (Part 2)

You know how some people choose a word for the year? Well I’ve decided to choose a song. Actually, I feel like the song has chosen me. It just hit me that for most of the big transition periods in my life, I can think of a specific song that God has given me for that new season and each of those songs has brought me such comfort! For example:

- “Blessed Be Your Name” when I left for college
-“At Last I See the Light” when I left Disney and started teaching kindergarten
-“Better than I” when I left the Africa Mercy after Benin
-“Who You Say I Am” when I came back to the ship in Guinea
Wow…that thought hadn’t occurred to me until I just started listing those songs out! I love that God gives me songs! He knows me so well!

Well,  I have a new song that He has given me and I have a new season in which to sing it! Don’t laugh at me for the fact that God often speaks through me through Disney, ok? I told you, He just knows me so well! The song that has quickly become an anthem over the last month and a half, and I have a feeling will continue to be an anthem over this next season, is Into the Unknown from Frozen 2! If you haven’t heard it, go listen now! Go…I’ll wait…ok, done? Good! I love when she belts the words,

“Don't you know there's part of me that longs to go…Into the unknoooooooooooown!

That’s it! Those are the words that just about cover this season of life! That’s exactly where I’m going…into the unknown. And it’s scary and exciting and worrisome and delightful all at the same time!
So here’s the plan…actually I’m not sure I can call it a plan yet exactly, there are just so many unknowns. So, here are the fragments that I know currently and I’m excited and intrigued to see how God is going to fit them together!
- I will not be returning to the Africa Mercy after the summer.
- I have accepted a job on the “Educational Support Team” for the Global Mercy, which is Mercy Ships’ new ship that is currently being built in China. They are sending a small “special forces” teaching team to teach the children of the technical crew there.
- After being built in China, the Global Mercy will be delivered to the Philippines to be outfitted with all it’s appliances, machines, etc. That’s where I will join the ship.
- We will then begin the Global Mercy’s Maiden Voyage from the Philippines, and eventually meet up with the Africa Mercy, which will be a longer sail than I have ever experienced before!
- I will be teaching the children of the technical crew during the equipping phase in the Philippines, and on the maiden voyage.
- So this means that when I come home in a week, I will be home in the USA for at least six months until I can go meet the Global Mercy.

-During that time back in the USA, I will still be working for Mercy Ships Academy, but stateside.

And now, for some unknowns:

- With the corona virus going on, we’re not sure when the ship will actually be delivered to the Philippines so I’m really not sure at this point how long I’ll be back in the USA.

-Where exactly am I going to live during that time back in the USA?
- What families will be onboard in the Philippines? What children? Will they even need a K/1 teacher?
- I’m the only one who has been hired for the teaching team so far…who else will be on the team? Who will be my people?
- What will it be like to teach basically in a construction zone where we sometimes won’t have air conditioning, running water, electricity, etc? What will it be like to teach during a 45ish day sail?

So, there are the pieces. I really am very excited about this opportunity! I feel very confident that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity to take part in and I feel certain that God wants me to be a part of this team! There are quite a lot of unknowns and shifting dates and nothing feels solid at this present moment. I would really appreciate your prayers! Please pray…
- that everything would happen in God’s timing and that we, as an organization, would look to Him for guidance and wisdom.
- that He would provide me with exactly what He wants me to be doing during that 6 months (or longer) that I’ll be back in the USA.
- that I’d have wisdom about navigating this transition. It’s a tricky one because I do need to say goodbye to all my friends, and kids, and families from this year, but I’m not actually leaving the organization, but I am leaving ship life and West Africa for an extended time…it’s hard to know how to navigate this weird transition.
- that I’d finish here well, use my time wisely and wonderfully at home, and start on the Global Mercy well.

Elsa finishes the song with the words, “How do I follow you… into the unknoooooooooooown?” Yes! That’s it exactly! How do I walk into all this unknown? One step at a time, with prayer, and with my eyes firmly fixed on God. To Him, there is no unknown.

Into the Unknown

The last three weeks have the been the longest and most disorienting of my life! I'd like to share some of the story of the last three weeks, but I can't fully explain it all, just as I'm sure you couldn't fully explain what the last three weeks have been like for you, wherever you are in the world. You have to live it to understand. But at the same time, we've all gone through craziness in the last few weeks and we all have snapshots in our minds...defining moments, and I'm sure there are more to come. Here are some snapshots from a teacher currently quarantined on a ship:

Sitting among 400+ other crew members piled in the international lounge to hear what we knew would be important, but not knowing what that might be. We knew something was about to change, but I didn’t know what. There were people standing in the back and in the isles and sitting on the floor in the front (where I was…obviously). Tears started streaming down my cheeks as we were told that this field service would rapidly be brought to a close. So many questions…what's going to happen? What about the patients currently onboard? What about the all patients who were supposed to have surgery between now and June, when the field service was supposed to end? Will we not be allowed to leave the ship? Are we going to pull out? Where would we go? When will this end?

Praying as a crew for the pre-op patients currently at the Hope Center who would be told later that day that surgery would not be happening anymore. I totally lost it when they started reading off the names one by one as we prayed for each. They weren’t just names, but people…patients…our patients. After the prayer a small group of us made cards for each of those patients, but what could a card really do to communicate how we felt?  At least it felt like doing something. We found out as we made those cards that the ship had gone into full lock down and no one was allowed to come or leave anymore.

Looking down on the dock from deck 7 at 11pm. It’s usually quiet and still at that hour, but that night is was a hustle and bustle with all the managers and the essential day crew moving into the now empty tents on the dock so they could stay in the quarantined bubble with us. Their willingness to sleep in tents and down in the wards to help us pack up and finish was so kind.

Standing in the hallway as kids and teachers and crew members  streamed in and out of the little cabin that one of our teachers has lived in for the past decade. They carried out trash and items for the boutique as she packed to leave the ship for her own safety because of her health and age. We all pitched in to help because at least it felt like we’re doing something, but we were in shock.

So many rushed goodbyes as crewmembers decided to leave as flights became available! And on the flip side, preparing our hearts for others who would leave, whose flights then got cancelled. SO MANY  GOODBYES. We thought we still had months together, which then turned into days or hours. Watching my littles hug each other. Hearing the ship whistle blow in honor of those departing. Waving as tears streamed down our faces until we couldn’t see the cars any longer.

Having daily meetings with updates about countries locking down, airports locking down, who would leave and who would stay. Wishing for the days when we had overhead announcements about the vacuum system being down and hot work needing to cease instead of never knowing what the next overheard announcement would bring and how it would change our lives. It felt like our lived were a jenga tower, still standing, but constantly having integral parts taken away!

Working in the galley, cutting tomatoes, because we didn’t have enough crew left to cover the shifts. Disinfecting door handles the day they cancelled school and divied out the teachers to different departments to help with the pack up effort so we could sail out.

Watching our dock space grow smaller and smaller as we finally sailed out of the port of Dakar. It felt much too soon and simultaneously so long in coming! It felt like intense sadness, and utter relief that we made it to sail day without anyone getting sick. It was two weeks to the day that we were told the field service was wrapping up that we sailed out, having packed up the four tents on the dock, discharged patients (each with individual care plans), released all our daycrew and over half our onboard crew, secured for sail, stowaway searched, sail briefed, and drilled for an at sea muster.

Worshipping on the bow! We were told that the waves were too choppy for worship on the bow, but come Sunday, God calmed those waves for us because He knew we needed it! We stayed on the bow from 3pm when it opened to 9pm when they made us leave…sitting, talking, squealing in delight at the sight of dolphins and sea turtles, huddling under blankets, eating dinner in our camp chairs propped on the deck of the bow, running in to get mugs of tea and hot chocolate for each other…processing and just being together with others who had gone through those last three weeks as well and understood.

Speaking of “just being together,” what a blessing is that?!? We must be one of the largest groups in the world who get to quarantine together right now and God knew to put me in that kind of community. I am blessed to be quarantining with 238 others, having movie nights, pub trivia nights, music concerts, dance parties, games nights…living all the hard and all the beautiful together. I am blessed to be teaching in a school that feels like it's one of the only ones in the world still in full operation. I get to spend large chunks of the day with six year olds who pray for the "sickness" to go away and then don't talk about COVID again! It's therapeutic in this time and space to hang out with six year olds and talk about loose teeth and legos! God knew right where I needed to be during this!

Irish Pub Sing-a-long for Saint Patrick's Day

Key of Sea giving a rather impromptu mini concert before some members flew away

Yoga on the bow...that's our captain on the right!

Bienvenido Sail-In Party

AFM Quarantine Olympics - Gumby Suit Relay

In January, I decided that my theme song for this year would be “Into the Unknown” because of some big life changes coming up for me this year (which I haven’t had a chance to write about or tell many people about yet, because I had no idea when I said that, what kind of unknown was actually on it’s way! I truly feel like I’m heading into, and already in so much unknown…

-I don't know when I'll be allowed off this ship

-I don't know when airports will open

-I don't know when I’ll be able to get home

-I don't know how long this virus will last

-I don't know if my family will get sick

 -I don't know if I will get sick

-I don't know where I'll be able to go when I do get back to the USA

-I don't know if we'll be able to finish the school year on the ship

-I DON'T KNOW!

But there is one thing I do know. I know whom I follow and that He is with me. I know that He knows. And that’s all that matters. All that unknown wrapped up and completely engulfed in the only known that really matters.

Creatures of Our Uniform

Dr. Gary told me, “A man becomes the creature of his uniform.” Actually Napoleon Bonaparte said that, but Dr. Gary quoted him in his medical in-service that we had onboard the other day. Napoleon meant that if you put a peasant in a military uniform, he will rise to the occasion and become a soldier. I have noticed this in my kindergarten classrooms as well. On my birthday I will often let my students dress as princesses/princes (or knights, since prince costumes are a bit hard to come by)…and let me tell you, when my little guys are dressed as knights, they are tripping over themselves to open doors and carry out brave duties for their teacher! I think that should be the new school uniform!

Dr. Gary however was not speaking of soldiers or knights. He was referring to our maxillofacial patients. When you have a physical deformity that makes others cringe or run or prompts others to tell you that you’re cursed, it’s often only a matter of time until you believe it yourself. These patients are suffering from benign tumors in their jaws and faces and while we hear the word “benign” and breathe a sigh of relief, it’s not a relief to those living without access to safe, affordable, and timely healthcare. A benign tumor is just as much a death sentence as a malignant one because you will still die, but it’ll be slow due to either suffocation or starvation.

I don’t usually attend the weekly medical in-services because as a non-medical member of the crew, I don’t need medical in-service hours for my occupation and I often can’t take the graphic photos and information that doesn’t seem to bother all of the medical staff, but is rough on me. But a couple times a year I do go to the medical in-service because Dr. Gary is speaking. He works daily, and has for the past 30+ years, to help provide safe, affordable (free!), and timely help for those suffering from maxillofacial tumors and it’s done with such tender love…like Jesus! As I stare intently down at the carpet in the international lounge so as to avoid seeing the graphic photos from the surgeries, I listen to Dr. Gary’s steady voice explaining how to make facial incisions where there are already wrinkles or lines in the face. I never would have thought of that. My thought is to just get the tumor out, but he thinks through every detail of how to make each patient look as “normal” as possible after surgery in order to restore them to their family, their community, and to give them a place at the table of the human race.

I heard words in that medical in-service that are completely foreign to me…words like maxillectomy, brisk bleed, bone putty, bone harvest. I’m much more comfortable with words like vowel segmentation, educational differentiation, one to one correspondence, phonemic awareness, but that’s what I love about teaching onboard the Africa Mercy. That same day I went to a phonics meeting, an Academy leadership meeting, a child safety meeting, and then I topped it off with the medical in-service. I love that I can be constantly learning and having my mind blown by what I get to do onboard as well as by what others are doing onboard.

I love living in a place where we are all becoming the men and women of our uniform – and I don’t mean our scrubs, deckie coveralls, and officer uniforms. Colossians 3:12 says, “Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.” As followers of Jesus, that is our uniform. May we continue to become more and more the creatures of our uniform every day and grow to look more and more like Jesus.