Our friend Joanna made a fantastic video to show everyone what we saw happen during the South and North tour of the Medical Ship!
We thought we might post this so you could have a look at what happened…
There’s a pretty good shot of Nick manning the sound desk and myself performing.
It was a blast and all to bring life to the people of Australia and Papua New Guinea. Enjoy!

Ship Tour Recap Link

Recently ABC, Australias national news network, did a segment on us and the medical ship. Check it out:

Medical Ship on ABC News

I’m a pretty competitive person.
Most people will tell you that. I like winning. I like playing games that I can win. I like being on teams that win. I like playing games where I can win fast. I don’t like games that require time and thoughtful decision making. Forget strategy – just give me speed and a few minutes to blast through and claim victory.
You would think that would make me a pretty determined person. You know, like the athletes around the world that just push themselves to do better until they’re the absolute best. And you would think with my new found hobby of running (or re-established hobby, as I used to be an avid runner), that I would like to beat myself – get better times, run longer, run faster, push myself harder…

I stink at it.

A day ago, I ran what was supposed to be 4.75k at a moderate pace. I’m training to run a 5k in August with Nick and I have to make sure I can finish (and NOT dead last – that’s totally unacceptable). Well, I was determined to run well this day. It was nice and sunny, perfect temperature, I had great shoes and was in high spirits.
But alas…solo runs always go the same way.
For the first few minutes, I’m loving it. I feel good, breathing well, I smile at passersby. I pretty much figure that I could do a half marathon if I just kept going.
10 minutes in, I hate everything. My body whines, my legs cry out from tiredness and I start debating whether or not it was a good idea. 5 minutes later, I’m back to loving it, thinking I could run for miles. Then, I start the push (I shake my head now at this prospect…). I speed up, my music gets a bit quicker on my ipod and I’m sure that people are envying my fantastic running form. Surely I am like a gazelle.
Remarkably, 5 minutes later, I’m back to a world of pain and hurt. When I need it most, my body and mind start a downward spiral to what I call Death to a Winner. My legs ache, cramps fill my ribcage, my face is the color of lava and I’m radiating heat like the earth’s core.
Then, that little voice in my head starts telling me things like “you’ve gone far enough, you can’t make it any further.” “Don’t keep running, this is the worst idea you’ve had all day.” “Everyone that passes you is wondering if your face is going to explode soon…spare yourself the embarrassment and quit.”
The other day, I gave in to this sad little monologue. I agreed whole-heartedly, pushed myself to the next patch of shady pavement and then slowed to a stop. I walked to the side of the road, immediately disappointed in my performance. Had I not still been a kilometer from where I was staying, I may have just coiled up in the drain on the side of the road to wallow in my sorrows.
But I kept going.
And there are days when I don’t give in. There are days when I hear that miserable little song in my brain and I literally fight against it. When I hear those thoughts, I actually speak against it out loud. Which of course, makes me look like a complete mental case as I yell out between huffs, “No!…you can….keep going!…(wheeze)..just a little further….arrgh….let’s go!”
And you know what? It actually works! I can actually push myself to the point of achievement and for the rest of the day (though I’m still glowing red), I feel like a million bucks.
But the best times, are the times when I run with my husband. Ok, well honestly, I’m so terrified to be the last one home that I have no problem quitting or giving up. When he starts moving a little faster, I keep at his heels, not saying a word about the knife of lactic acid stabbing my gut. But the best is when, in my moment of agony, he turns his head and says gently “You’ve got it, dear, you can do it.” And all of a sudden, I believe in life again. I will make it, I will NOT die and if I melt into a puddle at the end, Nick will still be there to pick me up (and won’t have broken a sweat, either, which is absolutely maddening).
I don’t necessarily have a moral to this little tirade – maybe just to say that we all need a little more encouragement. I am my own worst enemy at times, which is why it’s so nice to have the friends, family and husband that I do. And if you’re struggling through something and you wonder why it’s so hard, maybe you just don’t need to do it alone.

I’ve given myself enough inspiration to try again today….sigh. Here goes!

“What?”
That’s probably what you’re wondering. Well, if you are free to do what you want, free to go where you want and free to work where you want, you are better than 27 million people in this world. You are not for sale.
This past week, something really significant happened for us a ministry. We held a seminar with Not For Sale founder, David Batstone and his associate, Brant Christopher. Not For Sale is an organization birthed out of a hope to see the modern day slave trade abolished. This campaign is working to free those who are in bondage. David Batstone has just written an international best seller, Not For Sale, that highlights numerous stories around the globe. It’s a shocking book.
What’s more shocking, though, is people’s reaction to it. David told us many stories during his time here and there is much hope in the world of slavery. Many are joining with NFS and working hard to stop the slave trade. But others don’t believe it. Many would say that there are no slaves, and there has not been since the American Civil War.
Were that only the case. How I long for it to be true that through the passing of laws, slavery had ended.
Unfortunately, it is very real and NFS is calling us as a generation who care for others, to stand for something. During the seminar, we learned a lot. Some of it was amazing, some was depressing, but most of it was very, very challenging.
Like the fact that I can’t eat m&ms until Mars and Co. eliminate slave labour from their workforce. Or that my favourite chocolate, Ghiardelli, is not open about where they source their cocoa beans from. Or the fact that Starbucks sells a few Fair Trade coffee varieties, but what about the rest of their coffee? Is the rest of their coffee slave coffee? I know this sounds extreme, but this is reality.
And the fact is, is that it’s us who drive the demand for such labour. I’m the first to admit that when I see 3 t-shirts for $20, I’m into it. I want a good deal. In fact, I pride myself on always getting a good deal. But at what cost? Something that David mentioned has stood out to me – no matter what the price of an item, someone is always paying. And if it isn’t us, than who is paying for it? Not the conglomerate company…not the source of their material…it comes down to their workers. Did you know that most of the cotton that comes from Uzbekistan is made from children who are forced to work? Their schools actually shut for two months, they are shuffled on to busses and shipped to the cotton fields. Remember when we considered that slavery? Do we still? What then will we do about it? And what price will we pay?
I tell you one thing, I’m going to think before I consume. If we all thought a little bit before we bought something, we might be able to change a life. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE visit www.notforsalecampaign.org to find out more about being a smart consumer. They are also looking for people to help them with their projects-and there are so many great things they do. It’s crazy NOT to be involved.
Let’s be an active part of setting people free!!!!!

from a wanna-be abolitionist.

Also, check out www.free2work.org to see which companies are rated how. Believe it or not, companies like Nike and Gap are actually pretty good! Makes me feel better about my shoes…

I’m sitting here, trying desperately to think of words that would sum up the last two and a half months on the road. There are a thousand things I could say, but that may bore you. So I’m going to try and describe what has happened.

Two months ago, my friend Jessica and I are sitting on a stage, staring at 600 pairs of eyes looking expectantly at us. We smile big, hoping to look confident and then the first notes of our keyboards reverberate throughout the hall. Three and a half minutes later, the hall is filled with applause and cheers. We both take a deep breath.

They like us, we think. This is good.

Forty minutes later, we are standing at our promotional table in the back, surrounded by hundreds of eager students who want to know more about who we are, why we’re at their school and how they can help the people of Papua New Guinea.

At this very school, I encountered a student that gave me hope for young people everywhere. She was shy and soft spoken but determined to help.

While I stood outside talking to a group of students about different bands, she approached the group and waited patiently until the conversation came to a lull. I stuck out my hand to introduce myself, which she took gingerly while looking at the pavement.

“You know that card that we filled out,” she started. At every program, we hand out cards that the students can fill out so we can send them more information on PNG.

“Yeah,” I said. “Did you fill one out?” I asked. She pushed her glasses up her nose and shifted her backpack.

“Uh huh.”

“Great!” I said, thinking that she just wanted me to know she had responded.

“Well, like, are you going to actually let me help?” she asked boldly. This being our first school, I had not yet encountered such frankness and was unsure of how to answer her.

“Uh…of course,” I stammered. “If you gave your information, we’ll definitely send you more info on how you can help the people in PNG.”

“Yeah…” she continued, unconvinced. “But I’m not, like, too young right? Like, you’re not going to wait until I’m 18 or something? I can help right away?”

I was overwhelmed at this young girls’ need to make sure she was heard. I assured her as much as I could, not knowing what else do to but to give her my word that we would be in touch. She finally walked away, thanking me for coming to her school. As I watched her shuffle back to class, I had a thought.

These kids, these teenagers…they really want to make a difference.

That was just the first school of 80 that our teams visited these past months and we have concluded, with a resounding YES; these young people want to help. They’re not just eager, but desperate to make a change.

If you don’t know whether or not teenagers are worth investing in, I’m telling you to start looking. They are our next politicians, our lawmakers, our teachers, our servicemen. While we still can, let’s show them that they’re worth it.

Thanks to all of you who made it possible for us to travel around the country. You have given life to young Australians and to the needy in Papua New Guinea. For this, we are all grateful beyond words.

Just wanted to share this with all of you!

While we were in Adelaide, South Australia, we were visited by a TV station! This isn’t the first time that YWAM (Youth With A Mission) has been in the news, but I thought it was pretty cool because they put Nick’s video that he made, all over the segment! People are getting excited about what the Ship’s doing and well, we think that’s pretty cool!

Take a look!

Sara and Nick

Waves of Change in Adelaide
By Sara Verwymeren
A mother sits at home, catching every few words from the local news that blips in the background as she mills about on her computer. Suddenly, a phrase catches her attention and she turns to the television. The news has highlighted a medical ship, docked in Port Adelaide that will be helping the people of Papua New Guinea later this year.
Glued to the television, she calls excitedly to her son to come and watch. Her son, for some reason, has been enthralled with PNG for years. He has always wished for an opportunity to visit but has never known how. They immediately make plans to visit the ship that weekend.
Anna Sutherland, a YWAM (Youth With A Mission) volunteer who lives on the ship, spotted the mother and son from under the marquee in Port Adelaide, smiling bright as the two approached. Their eyes flickered with recognition and they hurried to the tent.
“Oh, we found it!” exclaimed the mother in relief. She turned to Anna and her excitement grew. “Oh! And you’re the girl from the news!”
She began to tell Anna about the son and his love for Papua New Guinea and how they were determined to see the ship, traveling an hour from their home to the port. Anna, encouraged by their enthusiasm, promptly admitted them to a guided tour and away they went.
Thirty minutes later, the mother and son bounced down the gangway, the mother’s eyes teary with emotion. They poured out their excitement to Anna, thanking her for the opportunity to tour the ship. Anna learned that the son was overjoyed to find out that he could actually make a difference in PNG before he turned 18.
The mother, mid conversation, turned to Anna as her son looked through the volunteer material.
“I don’t know how much qualification you need for volunteers,” she thought out loud. “But, I’m a qualified nurse, and – well, I’m no young person. Can I go?”
Anna laughed and told her of course. Wary of her enthusiasm, her son turned to her and made her promise she would “give him some space” to pursue his dream of visiting PNG. His mother promised and continued to gush in excitement. She would allow the boy space, of course, and would watch from a distance.
With outreach and volunteer information in hand, Anna bid the small family goodbye, unable to stifle a wide grin. What could be in store for a 17 year old with a life long dream for the very nation we’re helping? She thought. She didn’t know. But what she did know was that thanks to the Pacific Link and an interview on the local news, a young boy and his mother would be changed forever.

As most of you know, we’re on tour with a medical ship called the Pacific Link (www.ywamships.com), going down the east coast of Australia to talk about the opportunities to help Papua New Guinea, a country just off the north coast. We’re currently in Ulladulla, a small town south of Sydney. It’s a beautiful sleepy town on the sea, quaint and quiet.

Last night, we were hosted by the Mayor of Ulladulla, given a formal civic reception into the city. A few of us were there to represent the Ship and to mingle with local council members. As per usual, our team (Nick, Jessica, Mike and myself) was there early, setting up the sound and projection for the night. Mike would be playing in the background and we would be showing our promo video.

After helping as much as we could, Jess and I sat off to the side, trying desperately to stay out of the way. We watched locals trickle in to the building and put on our best smiles, as we were representing YWAM (Youth With A Mission) and the Pacific Link. Not much later, a man with four children darting around him, made his way over to introduce himself. He gave us firm handshakes and then inquired about what we were doing here in Ulladulla.

We took our turns talking about ourselves and when the conversation went quiet, I asked ever-so-innocently;

“So what do you do here in Ulladulla?”

A small grin spread slowly across his face and my stomach dropped. I had already made some sort of grave, unknowing mistake.

“I’m actually the Mayor of this old place,” he said with a chuckle. My face flushed and I made a nervous giggle as I glanced Jessica. Her eyes were filled with delight and she tried not to grunt with laughter.

“Oh.” I said, flatly.

What else do you say after asking the Mayor what he gets up to in this little town?? Jessica made small talk while I tried to swallow my pride and pretend that I normally embarrass myself and have no qualms about it. He was incredibly gracious and pardoned himself to talk to some other council members. Jessica immediately errupted into laughter after asking me “what do you do hear in Ulladulla?” I muttered a sheepish be quiet before making my way to some other important person that I could flounder myself in front of.

Once, after saying something particularly embarrassing, Nick said to me later; “Sometimes…you just say things.” “So?” I’d asked. He’d held up his hands in defense and said no more.

So, I must confess – sometimes, I say stupid things. There are those that say little and when they speak, wisdom flows like honey. Sometimes, I speak like honey. But most of the time, millions of tiny rubber balls come out instead, bouncing all over the place while I race to try and pick them back up.

Sigh…c’est la vie!

We hurried ourselves down to Nobby’s point in Newcastle last Tuesday morning to see what 200 of us were there for – the arrival of the Pacific Link. All of this preparation and excitement was meant for this moment! A few of us in our blue YWAM (Youth With A Mission) shirts made our way to the end of the point, squinting to see what we thought might be a ship, not too far off shore.

A man and his dog were walking towards us and seeing many others dressed the same, he finally had to ask.

“Excuse me, what’s ya-wham?”

I smiled and explained what YWAM was and what 50 young people, clad in blue shirts were doing down on the pier. “And now we’re waiting for the medical ship to arrive,” I said.

“Oh?” he remarked, looking down to the end of the point.

“Well, maybe I’ll have to take a look.” He and his dog turned around and followed the rest of us to the point.

After a few minutes, the Pacific Link finally made itself visible and teeter-tottered its way to shore, following a small yellow boat. As it passed by, those on the pier shouted their hellos, cheered, waved Australian flags and jumped up and down with excitement.  The crew of the Pacific Link waved back, more than happy to be ending their 6-day journey from New Zealand. We’d heard rumors that their entry had been delayed due to four-meter swells out at sea the night before.

Waiting at the wharf was a crowd of YWAM staff from Newcastle and Townsville and local spectators. We gathered eagerly at the dock as the Pacific Link crew threw their lines to the wharf. Each knot that tied them to the dock elicited cheers from those that watched.

News cameras, press and customs agents awaited the plank to hit the dock so they could board and document this momentous occasion. It’s not every day that a medical ship lands in Newcastle, fit with crew eager to bring aid to the needy people of Papua New Guinea while connecting with the young people of Australia.

Mike, the singer of Five Star Streets, was standing on the wharf when he spotted Ken Mulligan, director of YWAM Marine Reach Australia making his way through the crowd.

“She’s here, Ken. She made it,” said Mike as he and Ken eyed the Pacific Link, finally docked on Australia’s shore. Ken glanced out at the sea and returned his gaze back to the ship. With a hint of relief and a glimmer of excitement, he echoed Mike.

“She’s here.”

Stay tuned for more of the first stop on the Pacific Link’s Southern Tour!

I remember the first time I saw generosity in my husband. We were eating pizza with some friends, all of whom had pitched in for the meal though Nick had spent the majority of the money. A few moments later, some other friends walked up to our table, sat down, engaged us in conversation and one of them reached for a slice. Nick watched him eat, offered him more and said goodnight as they left.

I couldn’t believe it. Wasn’t he going to tell them that he paid for the pizza? That they couldn’t just walk up and take what wasn’t theirs? I mean, who did they think they were? When I asked Nick later why he didn’t say anything, he just shrugged. “I don’t care. They must have been hungry.”

He didn’t care. He had thought the best of them while I had labeled them as thieves.

My husband is one of the most generous people I know and has taught me a lot about money. After receiving a donation, one of the first things he thinks about is who he can give to. In fact, that is the culture of most of the people I know and work with here in YWAM (Youth With A Mission).

YWAMers are some of the poorest, yet more generous people I’ve come across. I can’t remember the last time I was told I “owed” anyone money. When times are hard, we seem to have a running tab with some of our closer friends. Recently, I made it a point to pay them back and I walked to their house to give them what I owed.

“What’s this?” asked my friend.

“Oh, that’s what I owe you. You know, for such and such.” She stared at the money, still in my hands and smiled.

“Are you sure?”

‘Are you sure?’  Has someone ever asked you that in response to what you owe them? What if your waitress asked that when you handed her a tip? Or a toll booth operator when you passed through a toll. I’m sure a few people would say “well, now I’m not so sure. No, I’ll keep this, thanks.”

It sounds silly, but God’s kingdom operates like this – it’s called generosity: where people who may or may not have what they need can always afford to give. My friend asked me if I was sure because she knew that times were tough for Nick and I. She thought of me first before thinking of herself. And I find a lot of people operate in such a way in the Kingdom of God.

Our church here in Townsville is consistently generous. A few months back, I told one of the women in my church that I liked her dress. I genuinely thought it was cool and she looked great in it.

“Do you like it?” she asked. “What size are you? I’ll get you one!”

I giggled and blushed a little, hoping that she didn’t think I wanted hers. But of course she didn’t think that. She was being generous and wanted me to be as happy in her dress as she was. Sure enough, a few weeks ago, Nick came home with a bag and inside was a pretty, white dress from my friend at church.

In the Bible (and countless other places), it teaches that it is better to give than to receive. I have to agree that nothing feels better. I know what it’s like to have nothing and to be desperate for some kind of relief. So when I am generous and see the result in another person’s life, it feels great!

If you don’t know this feeling or haven’t felt it in a while, I would challenge you to try it once a week. It’s ok if you can’t give money. Be generous with your time, be generous with kind words, be generous with your stuff – there is always someone around you that could use a little of what you have.

On the other hand, let people know when you are in need. If you are hurting, trust me – your friends and family want to know. If you need $10 or just time to get away for a coffee, tell someone! I bet there’s someone you could call and they would be there for you in a heartbeat. There is no shame in asking and there’s no shame in receiving.

I dare you to try it…or might you too proud to beg?

“He who a receives good turn should never forget it;

he who does one should never remember it.”

- Marcel Proust