2009

Hi! How are you today?

I’m doing good. I’m thinking back, I’m reminiscing. I'm a little nostalgic (to me that always sounds like a fungal cream).

I’m very aware that you’re still (probably) getting to know me, and so I thought I would post a little more (okay, a lot, lot more) about who I am - and what makes me me.

Because you can’t know me today without 2009. By far and in every way the best, most challenging, most transformational year of my life. You ready? This is bound to be a long one. 

a delicious pizza. simply to break up the text.

But first, a little back story. 

hairy backs are gross. end of story.

I graduated High School in 2008 and it was, by far – the worst year of my life. Okay it wasn't all bad, but it was hard. I obsessed about marks, obsessed about them, and I worked so hard every minute of the day. Nerdy, nerdy, nerd, nerd.

me and the bretheren: average day on the town.

Long story short: I gave up on a lot of the things which were important to me; like my family, my social life, my values and a little down the track – my faith as well. I consciously made the decision to no longer follow Christ; it had become nothing more then a routine for me, of rules and boring sermons. And so, I stopped taking communion, I told my youth pastor I was over it, I stopped talking to my parents and I stopped eating just about all together. It was bad, and at the end of it all, I was in a bad place. A dark place, a lonely place, a broken place and a confused place.

I didn’t know what I wanted to do when school was out. I did know however, that I didn’t want to study any more. I didn’t want to be at home anymore. I needed to get out.

And YWAM was my ticket out. And by that I mean the huge, multinational, Christian missions organization called YWAM, which stands for Youth With A Mission (or.. if you’re on the inside.. Young Women After Men, Youth With a Mustache, Youth Without Any Money… you get the point). It operates in a hundred and something countries, with something like 17000 odd full time volunteers around the world; they are all about empowering young people (and all people) to know God and make him known to the nations.

Point being, my dad  presented YWAM to me as an option. I knew three things about it; 

1. mum and dad would pay, 
2. I would move out of home and 
3.I would go overseas. I was sold and that was that.

And so, at the end of 2008 I found myself a bitter atheist on my way to a Christian missions organization. Truth be told, deep down I was glad. One way or the other, I needed to find out once and for all weather or not God was real. Because if He was, I needed to do something about that, to change my life, my heart, my everything. But if He wasn’t, I needed to know 100% without any doubt the truth of that fact, so I could move on with my life once and for all.

And sure, moving into a Christian missions base was not exactly the most objective way to go about that discovery process, but each to his own – Eat Pray Love -  my heart needed a home, and they were willing to take me.

A few weeks before I left Sydney, I called the guy running the program and I said, “I’m not a Christian, I know everything there is to know about Christianity – and I choose not to believe it. I didn’t want you to find out when I came. So, if you don’t want me to come then that’s fine”. And I remember exactly what he said in return. It’s profound.

He said, “Becky, we will fight for you”. And that was all the welcome that I needed.

Boy oh boy, this is turning out to be longer then I intended! Story of my life. Congratulations though, on just finishing the intro. It turns out my passions are long-worded. Like, honorificabilitudinitatibus - long worded.

But, where was I. January 2009. I packed up the past 18 years of my life into one less then 20 kg suitcase, I had a nervous breakdown the night before and I hopped on a plane to Townsville, Queensland – the beautiful, stinking hot, tropical home that it was to me.

I found myself bunking in a room with 8 other girls, in a flat of 16 – with two showers, one toilet and about 1 meter squared to place all of my belongings. 100 people suddenly lived with me, ate with me, and was with me all day every day. They all had strange and wonderful accents, customs, hobbies and back stories. We had no TV, no privacy and a no bikini-rule. It was bizarre, odd and it was wonderful. 

my bedroom (aka: the bottom bunk)

This phase, the first 6 months of this year, I went through what YWAM calls a Discipleship Training School (DTS  - you best get used to the acronyms now, there is a lot of them). If you somehow found my blog because you googled DTS, and you’re questioning weather you should do one or not, my answer is an overwhelming yes. The English language doesn’t have a word which comprehends just how much I adored this time. I didn’t know life could be that good. It was simply beautiful. 

my wonderful DTS.

Basically DTS is 6 months put aside to know God and make Him known to the nations. My DTS had 43 students, from all around the world – aged 18 (I was the youngest!) to 35ish. 

Without being there it’s hard to explain exactly what happened, but there were tears, there were hugs, there were questions asked, prayers screamed, dances danced, swear words yelled and community made. The friendships I formed in that time were stronger, deeper and more beautiful then I had ever experienced before; I loved these people, and they loved me. And as promised, they fought for me. They stood by me, they supported me through my ups and downs, my questions about God, the meaning of life, about purpose, about truth. They refused to let me doubt myself. 

a select few of the bunch - Maggie Island.

ridiculous.

I saw and experienced new things; like miracles, and prophecy, and tongues, and community, and selflessness, and humility and transformation. And through this process I came to a point where I knew that I knew that I knew that I knew without a doubt that God was real. I couldn’t explain what I was seeing and feeling and experiencing any other way. And in the middle of the Queensland bush, I wrote God a letter – full of questions and doubts, full of anger and past pain, and full of raw, brutal honesty – and I gave my life to the Lord. 

Hidden Valley - where it all went down.

we fixed it.

I haven't been the same since. I have purpose and my life has value. I am filled with Truth, my eyes have been opened, my ears have heard and my soul longs after its Creator. It was the start of an incredible journey. The start of freedom.

But, after the lecture phase - the other part of DTS is what is called ‘outreach’, where in smaller teams you go into the world to do good and love others. For me and my team this was a magical and unforgettable time. 

my team.

Altogether we spent time all over the place, starting in the Atherton Tablelands – where we taught scripture, baked goods and face painted. 

Atherton.

scripture.

In Cairns, we hung out with backpackers. In Darwin, we volunteered at the Arafura Games, ran kids programs in a small Aboriginal community and learnt a bunch of circus skills.

swimming joys.

colouring.

taking balloon hats to a whole new level.

And finally – in East Timor, the land which stole my heart. 

martaos.

In East Timor we were working in a small, rural village right up in the mountains known as Seortulan. We were there to build a house for Grandma and Grandpa, their children and their grandchildren. Oh how it stole my heart! I can’t even tell you. The happiness of that time consumed me. 

making bracelets.

grandma.

grandpa.

on our way to Seortualan - in the back of a cattle truck.

We learnt the language a little bit, we worked by day, we sung by night, we camped out under the stars, we played with puppies, we prayed with people, we spread the word of God, we taught English, we blew balloons and made lemonade. We experienced first hand bare-footed, hungry-bellied joy. We experienced first hand the realities of poverty, sickness inequality and global depravity. 

puppies!

church.

balloon joys.

camp fire songs.

Every morning I would sit in the old abandoned school, with a guitar I could hardly play, and my well-worn Bible and I would read, and see the glories of those words come alive in the land around me. 

stunning.

aberlonie.

abilly.

the old school.

And there I found myself, in all joy. In all fulfillment, living life and contentment for the very first time.

East Timor changed me. But, we came home and I did one of the hardest things that I have ever had to do, I said goodbye. Goodbye to my new family, whom I loved, and I flew back to my old family – whom I also loved, and had a lot of repairing and apologizing to do with. 

a scene from our goodbye 'weeping party'.

(We’ve reached the half way point if you want to grab a coffee! Or a chai. Or a blanket, or take a toilet break… my 09 dreamings continue!)

There was no doubt I was changed. Everything about me was changed, and although the time I had at home was wonderful and refreshing, I was not done and God was not done working in me.

And so, through much prayer and heart ache (theres a whole nother post in that coming shortly) I moved back to Townsville a little over a month later to do what YWAM calls the Introduction to Primary Health Care (IPHC) school.

This school was very different from the first. To begin, there were only 7 girls. And our 3 month lecture phase was filled not so much with dreamings about missions and destiny and the power of the holy spirit, but instead – with hours and hours about HIV and AIDS prevention, worm treatment, safe pregnancy and birth practices and how to give immunizations. This was a challenging time for me (again, more about that soon) but none the less I found myself, a few shorts weeks down the track, on a small and unreliable plane to Papua New Guinea; the land I miss with all my heart.

wound care.

how i felt about immunization class.

some of my rommies; on top of castle hill.

ear-class.

My team and I were there for 9 weeks, travelling along the Gulf Province. There are no roads, so we travelled every day in the small river systems with the locals, the canoes and the crocodiles. 

our dingie.plus sporting amazing palm frond hats.

local taxi/ child minding service.

view from the water.

you know everything is going to be fine when you board the plane with life jackets.

Side story: we asked a local one day if there were any crocodiles in a particular section of the river (so we could bathe). Her answer was “No. Only sometimes”. Awesome. 

river bathing, my favourite.

& again.

It was a wonderful, overwhelming experience. We visited something like 47 villages in our time and our routine became something along the lines of; wake up with the sun, eat some breakfast, set up health care clinic, do clinic for a couple of hours, eat lunch, more clinic, prepare for church at night, run church/ youth group, eat dinner, go to bed with the sun - and the next morning – we would pack up our stuff, jump into our dinghy (when it was available.. it sunk at one point and the seas were too rough on several other days) and move on to the next location. 

(still) so thankful to my supporters.

wonderful ladies.

daily view from the boat down the river systems.

typical lunch: sago, rice, crab & sweet tea.

fishy, bannaney, sagoey breakfast stew.

tropical ulcer.

feeling for baby position.

village tours.

HIV campaign poster.

a few minutes after he was born.

blood pressure.

wound care.

village welcome.

always in prayer.

We were really scouting out territory for the YWAM Medical Ship, which was new at that point and needed somewhere to go. This explained why we moved so often.

It was an incredible time, with no electricity, no shopping centers, no roads and no privacy. It was raw and beautiful.

In clinic I felt completely out of my comfort zone, but we were exposed to all range of health care issues- malaria, tuberculosis, wounds, varicose veins, snake bites, asthma, inverted nipples, hernias, fits, cataracts, malnutrition, worms and HIV, amongst about a trillion others. For a country so close to my own this was a challenge to see, to say the least. The injustice of the inequality was so tangible.

immunising babies.

child birth beginnings.

giving blood for an emergency C section.

But, none the less the time was magical. The people were, unforgettable. The generosity of spirit, the engagement with God, the songs, the lifestyle, the culture, the memories, the extremes – they were in every way, eye opening and life changing. 

swimming in the crocodile poo water, against all local advice.

how beautiful are the feet.

my amazing team, looking PNG sharp.

PNG is called the land of the unexpected and my goodness it lives up to its name. I made some big decisions in that place, I learnt a lot about life, and about myself, and about my place in the world and in this time.

I came home then, at the end of 09 and I settled back in Sydney, for now – for the next chapter.

2009 was so many things, but it was in every way transformational, life changing, earth shattering and honest. It was real, and I felt alive, truly alive and free – for the first time. It was the best.

I’m not afraid to confess that it’s really hard for me not to live in the past. Not to dwell on my sadness of it being over, and to continually look back and to pine for what was. I’m thankful for every moment that 2009 was, for the part of my story that it has become. And I’m ready now, having tasted what a life in Gods kingdom looks like, to have a dozen or two more “2009’s” to add to this file of my existence.

I met Jesus in a real and raw way, and it remains to this day a constant source of fresh air, of truth and of freedom for me.

And so friends, there’s a little piece of my back story which makes me who I am today. It’s just a smidgen of the stories and the loves that came out of that whole experience, but that’s for another post. Or even better, another chat. Let’s meet over cupcakes and talk questions and Truth and controversy, doubts and thoughts and Kingdom.

With blessings!

2012, the next 2009? Bring it on.