Tag Archives: ywam medical ship

Tiny little ship

I have nothing to write about, except that I’m going to Papua New Guinea the day after tomorrow.

Whoa. Just whoa.

It’s pretty much the only thing on my mind at the moment.

I can think of nothing else.

Excited? Way too small a word.

There is organizing and list-building and list-crossing-off and emailing and errands and laundering and packing and cleaning…. and and and… lots to do.

But you know what? It’s all for PNG.

I can’t stop thinking about it.

I’m probably not going to sleep for the next three weeks as the four of us share a cabin smaller than our kitchen. I’ll say good-bye to facebook and instagram and pinterest and blogging. I’ll have micro showers and wear the same two shirts every-other-day. I’l not be able to pop down to the shops when I run out of something or realize I’ve forgotten something. No nightly news or long walks around the neighborhood. No time alone. No googling when I don’t know the answer to something! *gasp*

I’ll be on a tiny little ship based out of a tiny little cabin doing tiny little work that will make a great big difference.

And you know what else?

It’s gonna be amazing.

And it will probably change our lives.

It will certainly change the future.

Ummmm, did I tell you I can’t wait??!

STOP.

Q for you: When’s the last time you were preparing to do something that you were SO excited about??

Love,
A

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.


Love him with my whole heart, I do. (Dad)

Since watching it sail off into the sunset just a few hours ago, it seemed obvious that I would write about our ship tonight.

About the amazing people that are on their way to Papua New Guinea to give their very lives to others. About the ones that waved them off from the shore who have spent long hours preparing, assembling, building, welding, painting, cleaning, praying. About the many people that have rallied, given themselves, invested their time, emptied their wallets.

I was going to write about the people waiting on the other side of the journey. The ones who have hope rising because of the heart and help that the ship brings and represents.

And these are worthy things to write about. (I will.)

But then I realized that today is my dad’s birthday.

And maybe no one else in the blogosphere cares about reading a wee post from a girl about her dad… but I care about writing, about giving him space.

I have so many memories of my dad growing up. I kid you not, they are all happy.

He was just that good of a dad.

But you know what I always remember when I think back to him during our “little” years?

Bike rides.

And tennis.

And softball in the park and soccer in the yard.

Whatever was my current whim, there he was right alongside me, helping me to learn, helping me get better,

but mostly… just having fun with me.

What a great dad. Dependable, available, approachable, relatable.

Always giving, always fun, always involved (in the best possible way).

Sixty years of being the best dad (and now granddad) I could ever imagine having.

Love him with my whole heart, I do.

STOP.

 

Q for you: How do you remember your growing-up years with your dad?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited


Little space, big dream

Later this year my family and I will be flying to Papua New Guinea where we’ll board the YWAM Medical ship, hole up in a small cabin, and spend a few weeks serving in villages where access to health care is limited.

Along with us will be teams of medical professionals – nurses, dentists, optomotrists, and more.

On board the ship we’ll run dental and optometry and basic health care clinics.

I haven’t been on an outreach like this in years now. Years.

To a YWAMer, that’s like slow death.

Ok, I’m being completely dramatic here. Nobody’s dying. (I’m not dying.)

But I am longing.

Longing to do what I joined this mission to do. Longing to be in the nations, helping people, helping people help themselves. Helping people to know God.

(To be fair, I’ve been doing all those things – in Australia. Just not “out there” in the developing world, which I love so dearly.)

Today we visited the Ship to look at hte rooms and decide where the best place for our little family to stay will be.

We chose a small room, where we’ll put a matress on the floor for Levi and Judah will share the bed with us. During the day, the bed folds up into the wall, leaving a small space for benches and a tiny floor area to play. (Most likely we won’t spend much non-sleeping time in there anyway.)

That little space created a lot of excitement in my heart.

Even though we’ve been planning this outreach for a long time now, today’s short visit to the Ship just made it all seem real.

This is happening.

Can’t wait.

STOP.

 

Q for you: Have you taken your family on an outreach before? Would you like to?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited