“...maybe calling it hard allows us to gather parts of our hearts we otherwise would leave behind, and to bring them before God. This is the first path we must navigate in change. We must call it hard when it is….We are unaware of how much our heart energy is being used during times of change in our lives….It’s critical that we learn to acknowledge the impact changes have made on us, and to call them hard when they are hard. This helps us become aware of how our hearts are responding to those changes and allows us to invite God into the process.”
~Gina Brenna Butz, “Making Peace With Change: Navigating Life’s Messy Transitions with Honesty and Grace”
We set two new family “personal records” (PR) on this trip. The first record was for the longest trip we’ve ever had – 24 hours of moving across the water. That doesn’t count the four hours we sat on the boat before it left. And it doesn’t even come close to what most of our colleagues experience because their allocations are farther away.
The second PR was for the hardest trip our family has ever experienced. The Lavucy was absolutely packed because it is currently the only boat going to the Russells; all of the others have broken down and are in different states of repair. So when the boat pulled out of Honiara at 11:00 p.m., everybody just had to do the best they could to find a way to rest. Our girls curled up into little balls on top of the hold, I lay down on the floor of the ship next to them, and Aaron sat up between me and the outside of the ship. Anytime someone needed to walk by, they stepped on me just because there was no other place to put his or her foot.
The boat stopped just after daylight at Moe. Then at Louna. Then by midday we had made it to Yandina. Where we stayed for four hours waiting for a part for the engine. Then we turned south and continued our trek of dropping off everyone and their cargo. As the boat got emptier, we had more and more room to spread out, so the girls and I took little naps on top of the hold in between the times when it was opened up to disengorge cargo. The sun began to set, and we were still far from home. Thankfully, we had taken plenty of food and water with us. And toilet paper. The bathroom was the size of a small closet, and I had to duck every time I came in and out or I would hit my head. There was no light, which really was a blessing, but there was a bucket to drop down into the ocean by a rope so the toilet could be flushed.
Not knowing what was going on got harder and harder. We went through almost every bit of food and water that we brought on board, so I was thankful that we always bring more than we think we need. The sun set and the stars came out. In the middle of the Pacific Ocean, with no moon, and no lights, the stars are spectacular. The crew wasn’t dispersing any information, so we relied heavily on our Lavukal Translation Committee Chairman and good friend, Belza.
Finally, it was our turn to load ourselves into the waiting motor canoe. We left our cargo in the hold to be delivered the next day, and we climbed over the edge of the ship and dropped down into the waiting vessel. As we sped away, the water was so glassy that the stars were reflected in it. After more than two weeks of heavy winds and rains, the calm seas were a gift from God.
We finally arrived on shore at Marulaon around 11 p.m. As we climbed up to our house, the pre-St. Matthias Day celebrations for the evening were winding up, and several of Olivia’s friends were walking underneath our house. They were super excited and surprised and we heard lots of “OLIVIAAAAA!” A dead rat awaited us in Olivia’s room. Not exactly the “welcome home” present we anticipated! We found the clean sheets, handed out granola bars, quickly filled the shower bags and rinsed off, emptied the ice chests, and tied up the loose ends before we finally fell into bed. Thank you SO much for your prayers. This was certainly a hard trip for our family.
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