Wednesday, August 27, 2025

“Today is the day,” a dear friend of mine texted me early in the morning on August 27th. I texted her back and said, “Thank you! Thank you for praying! I don’t feel like going to Africa today.” She texted back, “That’s the best quote ever!”

I moaned. I wasn’t joking. It was daunting, exciting, terrifying, and terrific, all at the same time. I was REALLY in the car, on my way to the Boise, Idaho airport headed back to volunteer as a nurse with Mercy Ships. I was on my way to the Africa Mercy, the very ship I had lived on previously for 5 years. I was headed to the country of Madagascar!

I reflected on the fact that I was not 26 years old anymore, the age I was when I first ventured to Mercy Ships and served eight months in Monrovia, Liberia to “test” out the waters as a missionary nurse, before I sold everything I owned in New Hampshire and volunteered with Mercy Ships for five years. Things felt different. I am only 12 years older than when I was last in Africa, but for some reason my body does not tolerate trips around the world as much anymore.

I was dreading the four days of travel ahead:               

A two and half hour drive from Twin Falls, Idaho to the Boise airport…

Boise to Seattle, a one hour flight.

A five hour layover in Seattle…

Seattle to Dubai in the United Arab Emirates, a 14 hour 40 minute flight... My mind wanted to panic at the thought of being trapped on an airplane that long. The longest I’d ever been on one plane before was a 15-16 hour flight to Australia.  

An eight hour layover in Dubai…My mind replayed too many negative cultural stereotypes about terrible things that could happen in that country, out of its proximity to “hot zones” in the world.

Dubai to the Seychelle Islands, a four hour and 35 minute flight…

An eight hour layover in the Seychelles.

Seychelle Islands to Antanarivo, the capital of Madagascar, a two hour and 45 minute flight..

A 24 hour layover in Antanarivo…

The last hour flight to Tamatave, Madagascar…

Then the FINAL 20 minute drive to the Indian Ocean where the ship is ported…

It was exhausting thinking about it.

I remembered how disoriented and sick I felt just traveling 24-36 hours between Liberia and the USA in 2008; Benin and the USA in 2009; Boliva/Chile in 2010 and the USA; London, England and the USA in 2010; Sierra Leone and the USA in 2011; Togo and the USA in 2012; Guinea and the USA in 2013; and finally the Republic of the Congo and the USA in 2013. Yet, at the same time, I was SO thankful for how LONG it took me to get “home” as it helped me somehow process a small portion of ALL I had seen and been through, versus my friends who landed in Europe after the 8-9 hour flights from Africa and had an hour train ride and they were home. But, how in the world, was I going to tolerate the trip ahead?

My parents graciously listened to me expressing my cacophony of emotions. I thanked them for not being cheeky and saying, “Well, you don’t have to go to Africa today; you won’t be there for 3 days anyway!”

I have always loved to travel and enjoyed every travel experience I have been gifted to have. Well, once I get there and my experiences with anxiety don’t get the better of me and after I complete the overwhelming job of packing. I am not a fan of packing. My soul was conflicted and disgusted with myself noting I couldn’t decide which pair of shoes to pack. “Geesh, Laura, I thought to myself,” remember those people you know by name in Africa, that don’t even own one pair of shoes.”

“Should I bring my orange, pink, teal, yellow, and black glasses frames? Oh, maybe the purple, too,” I contemplated.  “What the heck is your problem, Laura?” I said to myself. “Remember all the patients you cared for that have never had access to one eye doctor, or were once blind and now see because of groups like Mercy Ships?”

I tried on different skirts and shorts that were long enough for cultural sensitive standards where my “KNEE-ipples or KNEE-eavage” wasn’t going to show, pronounced just like nipples or cleavage, but replacing the “n” with the word “knee”.  The term we coined when in Africa years ago, noting sensitive areas of the body differ per culture. Breasts supply nutrition, so it was not uncommon to see topless women in the market, or town. Yet, the knees were sensitive areas and not to be shown.  I was frustrated that I have gained weight, thanks perimenopause, and a number of my clothing items don’t fit anymore. Yet, then I was reminded, what a gift it is to have clothing and more than one item of clothing to choose from. And to have food, in abundance. Then I was mad at myself and my entitled country for the diseases we have that are caused by obesity, yet at the same time discouraged at the despair and suffering many have related to diseases of poverty, starvation, and lack of access to clean water. No wonder I was already exhausted before starting the epic journey across the world to Madagascar. I already had whiplash, just trying to pack four suitcases.

My friends had asked, “Are you ready, are you excited for your trip?” I felt a little numb, it’s been hard to even formulate what emotions I was feeling or am feeling. It was “different” this time. Serving as a missionary nurse was all my heart beat for in the past. I felt incomplete if I was not in Africa. God had to heal me, take me deeper, and redefine my identity in Him, when I had left Africa and it appeared I would never go back. I have honestly been content, comfortable, and no longer pined for Africa. I was happily married, had fulfillment in my nursing jobs, and had found a place to serve God in my church. I didn’t NEED to go to Africa. Yet, God had opened the doors to take my sweet husband, Dustin, and me there. We were willing. We felt God was calling us to go. I don’t ever want to step where God has not directed. I don’t ever want to be content and, too, comfortable. So, sometimes that means going where you may not “want to” on a certain day or time. Yet, with God’s loving care and providential hand, he took us the extra LONG way to Africa. Those 3 days of travel before landing at our first location in Africa, sure gave me a different perspective. I may not have wanted to go to Africa on August 27^th, but by August 30^th when we landed in Africa I was sure READY to be there.