To start with, our planning stages for the trip had a good many problematic obstacles: we didn’t have Priscilla’s (aka Cilla) passport; one of our main teammates, Susie Shellenberger, wasn’t able to acquire the funds in order to make the trip from the US to here; we were unsure where we would get our funds; to name a few, but God always provided what we needed. Then at Brisbane Airport we met with another problem: my passport had less than six months to its expiration date. The five of us had gone up to the desk to check-in. The lady took our passports and papers, but after a few moments said she had to go check on something related to our stuff. After a bit, Aunt Becky decided that she would go see what the issue was. A couple minutes later she returned and said that it was what we had surmised: it was my passport. 
Mom, Aunt Becky, and I went to the counter where our check-in lady had gone. They told us that it was Vanuatu who had the strict policies on the expiration date. We asked if there was anything we could do and at first they said no; then they said that we could apply for an emergency passport, but we would have to fly to Sydney to do that. That was definitely out of the question since our flight to Port Vila was scheduled to leave in less than two hours. Aunt Becky took my passport and then headed to a phone to try and contact someone who could help, like the Potters (missionaries in Vanuatu) or someone back at Kudjip. Mom soon followed to lend a hand (or 
two). That left Cilla, Aunt Steph, and me to watch the bags that we had pulled from the scale to a place close to but still removed a bit from the counters. As soon as we three got situated, I asked if we could pray. Before I was a little nervous, and the full reality hadn’t sunk in that I might not go; after we prayed, I had no qualms and was smiling and even laughing a bit. We decided to go ahead and get breakfast and eat. Before long, we were praying again. A couple guys at the counter came and asked questions, which gave us the feeling that they were trying to come up with some alternative. When Mom and Aunt Becky came back they said that they hadn’t accomplished anything. They returned to the counter to see if there was anything else that could be done. Mom, Cilla, and I went to get breakfast for Mom and Aunt Becky. When we got back, Aunt Becky and Aunt Steph had put our bags on the scale and were checking-in. They said that the people at the desk had got a hold of 
Vanuatu and were given the OK. That is where my faith grew. My increased awe for God came on Thursday night. We had a church service at our small Nazarene Church there in the village of Ikaokua on Aniwa, Vanuatu. Pastor Peter Isaac (He and his wife are PNG Missionaries to Vanuatu) preached. Just before he stood up to preach we sang a song with a lot of action to it: running, jumping, and dancing. It really awakened my spirit and readied me for Pastor Peter’s message, like I have never felt before any other message. It was on Noah and his building the Ark. Pastor said that Noah’s family and friends probably gave him a hand, but they didn’t really believe in his reason until it was too late. Pastor paralleled that with us and how we are willing to help build the church building and doing good things for people, but we have to believe in the Reason and not wait until it’s too late and expect that all the good we’ve done will pay our way to Heaven. I loved this message and the fact that I was able to understand it almost completely despite the fact that he spoke in Bislama (even though it is similar to Pidgin here in PNG) made it even more special. Afterwards, Pastor asked for those who wanted to commit their lives to God to come forward so that they could be prayed for. Then he asked if those apart of the mission team would stand and put hands on those who came to the front and pray for them. I hesitated only a moment and glanced over my shoulder at my friend, Cilla, before I stood and began to pour out my heart to God on behalf of those believers. It felt so natural, but at churches here in PNG I have never stood to pray before. After praying we sang a song as we left, shaking hands with each other. That act too felt wonderful. It was the most amazing experience in my life.
These are the two areas that I grew in on my trip to Aniwa and I hope to return there some day.
article by Jessica Myers photos by Sylvia Potter and Susan
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