Almost Past the Equator

It’s my lunch break. I sit on deck typing away on my laptop, Josh Groban playing in my ears, as the Anastasis sails across the ocean. This song definitely takes on new meaning with the ocean’s waves roaring in front of me. We’re off to Liberia. Two days ago we left Cape Town behind and should arrive in Monrovia in about 7 days.

Cape Town was a great success. Mercy ship's goal was to get 10,000 people on board through tours and publicity. By the first weekend we were over half way there. By the end of 3 weeks we had reached 17,000. We soared over the goal. 17,000 people toured my boat. It was a crowded home. 17,000 people were able to hear about the work of Mercy ships and witness the lives of Anastasis Crew Members. Volunteers were needed a lot during those 3 weeks to follow tours. There was a trained tour guide who led the groups of 200+ people but they always needed someone to stay in the back and make sure that none of the Cape Townians got lost. I followed a few. People would ask me questions and would look at my strangely when I explained that I paid to be here. They’d wanted to know all about the cause and thanked me for helping people. They wished they could but theres a different calling for each and some arn't able to pack up and leave for a year or 2 or 10. Following a tour was always a pretty energizing activity. I was sort of a celebrity and people always looked so amazed when I explained how I got here and my age. It was fun. I was reminded with each tour the great work that’s been done in this ship. I’ve become very proud of this 50-year-old cruise liner. She stands head and shoulders above the rest of them.

Since we set sail, by the Lord’s grace, I have never been better. I made sure to take my seasickness pill a couple hours before and have been taking them every 7 hours since. The Captain made a point in the pre-sailing briefing, to keep our stomachs full. He warned us about this before the sail to Cape Town but I must have not taken it seriously. I’ve been trying to watch what I eat lately; it’s funny how quickly you can put on the pounds when you leave the cooking of your mother. Yeah, it’s sort of disturbing. But now that we’re sailing I have the perfect excuse to eat all day long. It’s quite fun. I’ll work it off once we arrive, for now I’m fighting the sickness of the sea. So as long as I keep popping the pills and consuming the cookies and chips, I’ll be perfect. Thank you dear people, for all who prayed for this sail and my well being. I asked for prayer a while ago when I found out how badly I sail and your prayers have been my saviour. This sail, if anything, is rougher than the last. Cully hasn't been doing very well. He says he's never felt worse. He showed up at my cabin door, yesterday morning, looking thinner than ever. I hate that others are sick when I feel perfect. He laid in bed all day. I brought him some ice-cold water with wet rags to put on his forehead. I didn't know much else to do. I felt at such a lose. Suddenly my office work seemed so stupid. I knew he had to get something in his stomach that would stay there. If you don't keep eating you'll get sick and once you're sick you can't eat and then you only get sicker. I brought him some rice cakes. I think he may have gotten through one by the day's end. He had stopped taking his seasickness pills, which annoyed me. So I took him pills and made sure he took them every 7 hours. He had to work today and says he's much better, only he has a massive headache and blurry vision. Pray for him please and pray for the others that suffer. I forget how awful it is to be ill by the sea. Though I do remember it is one of the worse feelings I’ve experienced. I remember that. A feeling of claustrophobia comes over you and you just become so helpless and angry.

My office chair is constantly rolling backwards as I slam against the wall and when I walk along the corridors my hips crash into the railings. I was holding my laptop, water bottle, book (to kill a mockingbird), my digital camera, and my bible, along with some random cords, yesterday, walking up the stairwell just as the ship sailed over a massive wave. My body slowed down and I started leaning backwards. I tried to grip with my toes since both my hands were taken. It wasn’t working. My body was tense as I struggled to keep myself stable. Veronique walked by just in time and grabbed my arm, pulling my to my balance and off that cursed stairwell. I’m not able to keep myself steady but the medication makes it so I don’t care. It’s quite wonderful.

It’s Friday night and instead of crewmembers dispersing into town on their night off, we’re all stuck on the ship. There’s this lounge called The International Lounge, which has a coffee place called The Sale Victoria Café. I can see it from where I sit. A line has formed as people anxiously await their caramel late or double espresso. I can see Cully and Signe. They’re running it tonight; filling the mugs and placing them in the thirsty hands of Crew. At 8:00pm, there’s ballroom dancing outside on Aft Deck. I think that should be funny. But as Lani already pointed out, it’s much easier this way to blame any awkward moves on the rock of the ship. I can’t really see trying to maintain rhythm as well has balance. But I may attempt it. It has perfect potential to be hilariously entertaining or just plain awful. It’s a toss up, I tell you. I don’t have my trusty partner here. So that’s already one downer.

Here begins a new journey. I’m on the edge of embarking into a brand new way of life. Monrovia anxiously awaits us, as well as the 500 UN soldiers, our personal security men. Our water supply has yet to be secure. Please keep praying for that. I don’t know what Liberia holds. I know it holds heat. So far the weather in South Africa has been cool and humidity free. Long pants-and-jacket weather. I’ve loved it. It hasn’t been hard. I haven’t been stretched. When I feel the air on my bones now, I can already sense it’s change. We’re fast approaching the equator and as we do the breeze steadily rises in warmth. The tours department is busy planning an “equator” party for the crew. They really do make an effort here for us Crew. It’s pretty heart warming. But yes, a war-ravaged land is waiting for us. The Anastasis looks as a saviour to these forgotten people. Their elections have just ended. We not sure of the results but pray, please pray, that a strong leader was chosen, even a godly one, that will lead this nation to their full potential. The Anastasis can only scratch the surface. God can rip it open. He can show his face there. Pray that he will. I ask you this night to pray for the Anastasis. Pray for our arrival. Pray that God will prepare the hearts and minds of the Liberians for what we have to say and that not only will they be changed physically but that spiritually they will be led to eternal life and begin a personal relationship with the true and living God. Pray that God will be with us, that his presence will be evident and that the Crew of the “Annie” will seek his face daily. Pray that we will not loose sight of the ultimate purpose of this ship and that is to win souls to Christ, not merely to heal wounds.