‘It’s all about the Mish……’
Back when I was younger 24 or so. We used to have a saying. It was all about the Mission. Or Mish for short. It started one night when I was dropping my mates back home in my old beaten up Honda Civic Shuttle. All 1300cc of her. We would drive to the bottom of Brooklyn Hill in Wellington and do what we called the Coaster Challenge.
The Coaster Challenge was simply this. Hit the 70kpm mark and from the traffic lights at Brooklyn, see how far you could coast with the car out of gear, down around Owhiro Bay and towards Island Bay. Our record was to the 5th lamp post past the old Brass Monkey Café a distance of 2-3km. It became legendary between a few of us and was a common Friday night Mish.
I arrived in PNG to stay in a Missionary House called Mapang. An amazing place that housed many true Missionaries. Ones who gladly tell you about how many people they have on the ground or how many villages they are actively serving. Many who to me treated the house staff like servants and gave others very little time. Don’t get me wrong there were many who were great – if you like that sort of talk. However, I felt odd. I wasn’t here to administer medicine, or give out bibles. I wasn’t here to set the world on fire. No I am here to rebuild a hospital; I was to work in supply and logistics. Spending most of my day staring at CAD drawings, changing what will not be possible in the bush and redrawing Trusses to include lower pitch angles and larger overhangs. Sorting out supply issues and fighting off the heat in an office that leans so badly my chair rolls from one end to the other while I hang on for dear life. I was an office Mule. Ordering and designing my way through the tough conditions of being in the Gulf. I was not in my mind an Missionary ( but in that case aren’t we all called to be missionaries, in our everyday life) Hang in my mind I wasn’t even really sure if I was a Christian. Not one that could set the world on fire anyways.
The Gulf especially Kapuna soon changed that! The first week was spent with a virus or something ripping through my family. The first Night we had a boy who couldn’t make the bathroom. Sheets dirtied through, a toilet that wasn’t working and all of us ready to throw it all in. Calling out to God, pleading with him to cure my boy, praying that when my girl and wife got it which they did. He would heal them quickly. Prayers that I felt fell on deaf ears. No we didn’t get healed instantly, We went though many nights and many sheets till everyone was well enough to leave the house. What was I doing here I didn’t belong in this place. I put my family in the way of danger. Doubts were very real and I really wanted to be home.
One week later we were 90 per cent, we made our first Church service. It was based on the Volunteers Calling to be here in Kapuna. One of my colleges who have been in supply for years shared his calling. It was exactly what I had needed to hear. We in supply and building. We were the ones who were making the infrastructure for the others to use in their calling. Without us that was a lot harder. Finally I could see in another light. I was meant to be here. Homesick or not I am doing what needs to be done for the Others to come through and administer Healing or Preaching, Teaching or whatever their calling is to be. It was an acceptance letter from the Lord. I was here to do his work, important work that would provide the base for many more patents to be healed, and for others to fulfil their callings.
My Mission I guess is to make it through the next 6 -12 months. To do the best I can to rebuild this project on budget and on time. My Mission is to ensure I don’t miss this place by wishing to be back home (were my heart really is at the moment). My mission to grow in faith and knowledge of a loving Saviour.
This year for me is really all about the Mish…….