Just another day . . . not!!!

This is not a long post, but I just had to write something because, come on, this has been one of the most amazing days EVER.

This morning I got up and went outside, only to see . . . desert to the right, and desert to the left. We were just over halfway through the Suez Canal. I've been interested in the Suez Canal and Panama Canal for a long time, and when I first was thinking about coming to the ships and inspecting a map, I again noticed the Suez Canal and thought, wouldn't it be inCREDible to actually be there and go through that canal??? and of course I never imagined it happening.

And today it happened!!!!! So amazing. We were seriously sailing through the desert. Once when I went outside, we were passing a military training ground where they were doing drills. Other than that, just sand dunes forever. WOW.

I think that was one of the highlights of my life. Maybe even more than visiting the pyramids (I make it sound like I'm a full-time tourist, don't I?)

THEN, after that, sometime this afternoon we entered the Red Sea. THE Red Sea – the one that God parted for the Israelites to pass. THE Red Sea. Incredibly (again!), my Bible reading today just so happened to be . . . in Exodus, just where that story is! I looked out the windows and thought, you know? They could have crossed right here! Or right there! You know, or not . . . but regardless, I will sail straight across those waters that God blew apart with a strong east wind. (I was thinking though – in Bible times that must have meant that the wind was blowing to the east, not from it – otherwise how would they ever have gotten across?) Somewhere underneath me, the sea bed was once dry and marked by thousands of Israelite feet, not to mention the six hundred Egyptians who were swept up and drowned!

This is so. amazing. 

On initiative

I have a good boss. He's very, very different from some of my previous bosses; actually he reminds me of my dad to some extent.

Things get slow with the media sometimes, so when our department is designated random jobs, usually I'm the one who takes them on. There are many new things I've never done before, and sometimes they freak me out because I know I'm young and clueless. I don't get a lot of trial runs; the things I produce are often used with few revisions. I wrote a brochure, and thousands have already been printed and distributed. I created a presentation for the Advance Preparation team to use in soliciting sponsorships which may yield thousands of dollars.

Seriously, half the time I don't have a clue what I am doing! But my boss goes by the “learn by doing” philosophy; he told me that if I go to another person to get all my ideas, then I may as well just let them do the project themselves. It's definitely a challenge for me to step up and take a lot of initiative, but actually its been great and I am learning so much.

I'm learning the value of that philosophy as it applies to work and to life. So much of my life these days requires me to just do my best – make a choice, and see what happens. Sometimes it's the wrong choice, and sometimes it's the right choice; either way, it is a learning opportunity. I don't always have the luxury of understanding all the details related to my choices, but that doesn't relieve me of the responsibility of making a decision.

But it's hard. It's hard when your foolishness bursts in your face. It's hard when people let you down. It's hard when your world gets shaken up, and you can't tell one direction from the other. It's hard when the good in your heart is practically indistinguishable from the bad. And I know that the Bible offers the best direction, but sometimes it's just confusing, and I just don't know.

Sometimes, all I want is just for somebody to come and tell me what to do.

Reflections on the Sea

So, today has been rough - quite literally. Our Atlantic crossing was super nice - it only got bumpy a little bit toward the end, when we were all so used to sailing that it barely bothered anyone. This is less than a 24 hour sail, so I kind of thought it would be pretty mild. (So did the book fair, because they didn't do a full packdown!) Instead, it has been our roughest sail yet! Definitely my roughest, but I talked to other people who have been on the ship since it's been sailing, and they agreed. I hardly get seasick, but this one got even me down - I spent the entire afternoon and evening lying on my bed just waiting until it calmed down or I felt better. Also I was trying to avoid Deck 5, which is supposedly the place that moves the least, so it's where sick people congregate. I told my dad that it looked like a triage center or something - so many people lying on the floor or huddled in small clumps, looking pale and miserable. It's either mildly amusing or traumatic when you walk through, depending on how you yourself feel. :-P

Oh, but THAT was earlier. It's all over now. I've finally started feeling better, so I went upstairs to eat, since, you know, I hardly have today. I sat in the empty dining room (literally the first time I've seen it like that!) watching the water, which came so close it looked like it wanted to eat me. It was somehow so scary and so appealing that of course I had to go out for a better look.

Sometimes I really wish I had a better command of language, and this is definitely one of those times. I know for a fact that there is something really beautiful to be said about the Mediterranean at midnight in the moonlight. The alliteration isn't even planned; it's natural. Doesn't that just prove my point?

The most I can say about it, though, was that it was spectacular and terrifying and huge. I couldn't see how big the swells were, but I could see whitecaps all around, glowing blue in the moonlight. Ferocious wind, clouds backlit by the moon, sea spray in the air . . . and the unpredictable motion of the ship. From the inside, it just feels dizzying, but outside I could really see how the ship was getting tossed around by the water and the wind - like a toy, really. We charted our course, we trained and prepared, but we have no control over this - this Mediterranean midnight.

On hope and depravity . . .

The ship is a very strange place. Something about it - someone, rather – has this amazing ability to take a pickax to the most vulnerable places in your heart and bring them to light. I've seen it on several different occasions, when people are forced, usually very much against their will, to face their deepest hurts and most diseased beliefs about themselves and about God. It's not like counseling, where a person asks sensitive questions and gently probes through your past; God knows your past already and he already knows exactly what your issues are.

Tonight I opened one of my journals and, for some reason, flipped to the very back, where I've tucked a few things away for safekeeping and (rare) rereading. One of the things I have hidden away back there is a sort of worksheet that we did during the first few weeks of the camp I worked at a few summers ago. Our speaker had created, on a single sheet of paper, a very detailed template for us to fill in which painted a clear picture of our perceived identies. It began with your parents and their perception of you, then went on to include your personality type, then your deepest hurts and, more importantly, the messages they communicated to you about your identity. Then it allowed space to list your attempts to change and your coping strategies when those attempts failed. The description sounds very clinical, but when I open that sheet of paper, I see straight inside my own living heart.

When I came to the ship, one of the things I was actually kind of looking forward to (in a sick way) was coming to a deeper understanding of my weaknesses. Pride is not a nice thing to deal with, especially if it is based on a lie. We have the capacity to lie to ourselves and convince ourselves of positive qualities we don't have, and then use those lies to inflate our egos. It's an amazing thing.

I have come to a deeper understanding of my weaknesses – oh, I have. It's amazing how Jesus' teachings are so simple when you're not actually living by them . . . when you start to actually do some of the things he said, you realize, maybe for the first time, that actually you can't. You're incapable of it. I've seen things in myself – dark things, terrible things – that I wasn't even aware of before. Most likely they've been glaringly obvious to those around me all along, but that's not the same as them being obvious to me.

I'm forever trying to put myself on a pedestal that I don't deserve, and inevitably, my self-idol will fall and shatter. And when that happens, let me say that it does not feel so nice. However . . . I'm also realizing that a person's understanding of their own wickedness must not surpass their understanding of God's grace.

Actually, that's more the point of this post. Maybe it's more an admission of sorts, to say that I've been having identity struggles. That handwritten paper shows a heart that has not been completely repaired yet. When I consider my present struggles and various parts of my history, all they say to me is that I am wicked and unwanted. But as our camp speaker explained about a flawed perceived-identity, “You came by it honest, but that doesn't make it true.”

There is a truth that is higher than my weariness with myself. There is a truth that really does give me hope. The truth is that there is a God who sees all my problems, who sees the depth of my depravity, and who wants me anyway. It's true that the heart is deceitful and desperately wicked. It is true. But it is more true that God created us, and even in spite of our mistakes, he still values, still wants us. Now that's amazing.

Oh The Places You'll Go . . .

Many moments from my senior year at Bryan make me smile when I remember them . . . for example, one time when I earned a room-filling laugh from Bruce, the dean of students. Unfortunately I don't remember how I phrased it that it amused him so, but I had just commented on how shocked I was to find myself in a life-stage that I didn't expect to exist for me. (Um, is that confusing? Because, I'll be honest, it was a little confusing for me to write. Anyway.)

Moment of transparency: since I was a child, the extent of my hopes and plans for my life were to go to college, get married, and raise a family. I think that was kind of my definition of adulthood, and it was the only thing I ever wanted for myself. Now, I still kind of expect that my life will eventually turn that direction, but mid-senior year, I was totally surprised when it sunk in that I wouldn't be immediately transitioning from college to marriage, and I would need to have something else to do with my life. (I feel a little ridiculous admitting this in a public place - but there's a point forthcoming.)

It was actually quite hard for me to give up those expectations and open myself up for something different - something totally different. First there was my interest in working in Germany, then the missions conference at school where the ships were suggested to me . . . and now here I am, living on a big white ship on the other side of the world.

Tonight I've been listening to Caedmon's Call, and they have this one song about the everyday sacredness of motherhood, and I realized that while I like it and agree with its message, it really doesn't resonate with me at all. Most of my friends are married and thinking about families (I've been in seven weddings! Miss 27 Dresses herself!!), but I'm just really not there at all. Sure, I still want to get married eventually, but finally I seem to have lost the mentality that suggests that marriage is what I "should" be focused on right now. It's not.

My focus is right here. My focus is on introducing the ship to the world. On learning how to be a "little Christ". On building relationships and investing in people who I will never see again (and I'll be honest, that part sucks sometimes). My focus is on being a light in some very dark places, and on having a life of service - a life worth living. And I'm very content with that. Ship life is nowhere near as glamorous as it sounds (seriously) and there are many . . . unique challenges of life on board. But it's a huge privilege, and I'm happy with it.

This is not the life I expected - or the life I wanted. But you know what? It's good.

changes . . .

Things change so quickly here on the ship; it's really hard to believe. I've recently had one or two people ask me if I wanted to switch to a different department – I even think that if I had been interested, I could have already changed to go work in the book hold. But I wasn't interested in changing.

Yesterday morning I had every intention of staying in the book fair for at least six more months. But today I had my last day working there.

At lunch yesterday, I got paged to go to the personnel offices, and I was thinking, “What in the world have I done wrong?” But instead, they had a job offer for me: the person now responsible for media relationships is leaving the ship quite suddenly, and they need someone to take her place almost immediately. They knew about my communications background and apparently had heard some good things circulating about me, and they wanted to know if I might be interested in taking over her job. After a frenzied few hours and multiple discussions with personnel, the media manager, the book fair manager, and my dad, I decided to accept the position. I'm totally scared – it's a whole lot of responsibility!! – but I know it will be for the best.

Side note: I've been really confused about recognizing God's will lately, and that's definitely relevant to this whole decision-making process. But when I started to pray about whether I should take this job, it took about ten seconds until I got a “yes.” Oh! Um . . . okay then?!?! I've been realizing that if I debate too much with myself and try to over-analyze the things I think God might want me to do, I can very easily persuade myself that it's nothing – ESPECIALLY if he's asked me to do something I don't want to do! But there's that story in 1 Kings 19 where God speaks to Elijah – not in the fire, not in the fierce wind or the earthquake, but in a gentle whisper. I really love that story. I'm starting to learn a little bit about that gentle whisper . . . like the fact that sometimes it's so easy to just ignore. But I'm realizing that I think if my relationship with God is good, and I think he might want me to do a certain thing, I'm far better off if I err on the side of willingness instead of erring on the side of skepticism (my natural inclination)! It's worked out extremely well for me in the past, so hopefully I can kind of keep it up.

Basically, my job will be sort of managing the overall public image of the ship – yeah, a pretty huge responsibility. I'll be working with local media in the ports we visit – offering interviews for t.v., radio, etc., hosting reporters, making sure they have all the information they need, etc. I have to know what needs to be emphasized and what needs to be de-emphasized, depending on what country we are in. And I'll be tracking and archiving what is said about us. I'm kind of shocked to have this type of job, and to have the chance to use my communications degree – honestly, I never really expected to use it in really a professional context, but here I go!

It promises to be interesting – and a challenge for SURE!!!!!

Cultural observations

Africa, lemme tell you, is quite a place. It's so different and there's always something new to see and learn. Then if you also take into account the many unique situations that result from putting so many cultures together on one ship, perhaps you can see how my life can be so . . . interesting sometimes! This a list of my favorite interesting/amusing culture moments I've had over the last weeks, both on and off the ship.


- Hanging out late at night in the dining room after work eating noodles. I've eaten more Korean noodles than I know what to do with, and practically set my mouth on fire in the process – but the best thing was seeing the stunned looks on the Korean's faces when I started making boxed macaroni and cheese in the microwave. Each step was more amazing than the last. :-)

- Seeing people walking out of the book fair carrying boxes of books on their heads – definitely a first for us! Talk about strong muscles there!!! I tried it once with a big basin of water and it was NOT EASY!!!!

- Also inside the book fair, one day we were visited by the chiefs from many local tribes, men regarded with great respect and treated as kings by most people in their culture. They are quite influential, but many are involved in the black magic/occultism that is prevalent in the area. For any of them to become a Christian could represent a great deal of change for their culture. We were privileged to be able to offer a special program for them, and afterward some of them came down to visit the book fair. They were a sight to behold in their traditional costumes, basically just draped in yards of stiff, brightly colored fabric. Definitely memorable!

- In my weekly fellowship group last week, each of us brought pictures of our family and were sharing a little bit about our lives back home – a topic that is usually barely discussed here on the ship, because, right or wrong, it sometimes seems irrelevant to us. I also showed a picture of our house, and then of the view in front of our house – a gorgeous shot of the valley and fields and mountains in the distance. But that picture met with loud exclamations from James, the Taiwanese in our group. “What?? WHAT?? Nothing??? It's nothing!!!” His shock was genuine – as evidenced by his eyes, which were so wide his eyeballs could almost have fallen out without anything to stop them. He explained me that the houses in Taiwan are so close and it would be unthinkable for there to be so much space – especially next to your house! :-)