Things that I am going to miss when I am living on a ship off the coast of West Africa in "T" minus 3 weeks:

• My beautiful apartment
• Biweekly deposits into my bank account
• Katie
• Streaming “you tube” videos
• Having pretty hair
• Vegetables

Things that I am absolutely not going to miss when I am living on a ship off the coast of West Africa in "T" minus 3 weeks:

• Waking up every morning and wondering if I have enough layers of clothing in my closet to make getting out from under the covers tolerable
• Making decisions (The lovely thing about living on a ship is that 99.43% of one’s decisions are made for them. If my prediction is correct, I will be forced the odd time, to decide whether I want to use my Tupperware to transport my meal outside for a “dock dinner” or opt for the more traditional dining room meal. I am prepared for that.)
• Make up (because I am bringing it all….obviously….)
• Listening to patients complain about how long they had to wait for their free health care
• Snow, ice, sleet, freezing rain, salted cars, cold steering wheels, sliding through stop signs, and running out of windshield washer fluid
• Shoes

Two years ago - almost to the day - I was doing this very same thing. It's really one of my favourite activities: Making lists.



I have the "to buy", "to pack", and the customary "to do" lists currently on the go. From what I can tell, thanks to a drastic shortage of sick children in the Ontario health care system as of late and its subsequent effect on my employment situation, I am more than on track to being fully prepared for my departure in less than one month. One would expect that such an exquisite display of organization and planning would cause me to be feeling nothing short of smug with myself.


Unfortunately, I can't help but wonder my lists are so short. And why, despite my persistence in attempting to make them longer, I continue to cross off items at a pace that should be the envy of procrastinators everywhere. It seems like it should be harder.

Maybe, the excitement of how I am going to spend the next three months is completely overshadowing the fact that spending 45 minutes on the phone arguing with a FIDO representative is typically less than enjoyable.

Maybe, it is just plain easier the second time around

Or maybe, I am going to get to Togo and realize that I did everything wrong and have to suffer three mascara & high-quality pen-free months. I'll keep you posted....

I never cared much for art. Art of any type really – I found it intimidating. I could appreciate something beautiful as much as the next guy, but I always felt like the ability to create something original was beyond me. To be artistic, you have to put yourself out there in a way that made me uncomfortable. I always preferred the safety of scientific equations. You can’t really go wrong with an equation.

There’s a part in “ps I love you” where Holly is talking about this very concept…but with a slightly more positive perspective

“All I know is, if you don't figure out this something, you'll just stay ordinary, and it doesn't matter if it’s a work of art or a taco, or a pair of socks! Just create something... new, and there it is, and its you, out in the world, out side of you and you can look at it, or hear it, or read it, or feel it... and you know a little more about... you. A little bit more than anyone else does...”

Up until about the age of 23 (the point at which I graduated from University, making it a convenient age to remember), I wasn’t much of a risk taker. I made every logical, responsible decision that was out there to be made. On the “straight and narrow” so to speak. Such thinking didn’t allow for too much creative expression.

Then school ended and I realized there was no longer a pre-destined straight and narrow direction for me to follow. I suppose that is probably what sparked this whole world is your oyster mentality that has fueled so many of my major life decisions. The beginning of the era of taking risks.

In the same way that taking the safe path has a fairly high probability of producing a potentially positive (but very finite) outcome; risk taking, in its essence, has no guarantee of producing positive results. The incredible part comes in the unknown. Without taking the chance, we can have no comprehension about the potential for something amazing.

I think that it is the same with God.

We can choose to do things our way. The safe way. The logical way.

Or we can decide that the potential for absolute inconceivable blessings are worth the risk of following God. We can decide that whatever he has planned for us is going to be undeniably superior to what we could plan for ourselves.