Part 5 – Giving Hope and Healing — in Spreadsheets

If you’ve been following along in this series, we’ve talked about my first steps into the hospital, the value of building good habits, caring for the Finance team, and learning to leave space in conversation. All of those threads lead here: giving hope and healing through spreadsheets.

Mercy Ships’ tagline is “bringing hope and healing to the world’s forgotten poor.” We mostly think of surgeries — a child with bowed legs walking straight for the first time, a person blind from cataracts seeing their family again, a patient with a massive tumor finally lifting their head without shame. That’s the heart of what Mercy Ships does. Healing, restoring hope, giving dignity.

But this post is about something different and nerdier: how God used a finance/software operations guy to help bring hope and healing not through scalpels or pharmaceuticals, but through spreadsheets and process optimization.

The Doorway In

When Jackie and I joined, my role as Finance Director made it possible for our family to serve onboard. My “job” was numbers, not patients: budgets, bills, day crew stipends, crew bank operations, cash forecasts. Jackie worked on Deck 4 with patients in Rehab. She had patient stories; I had account reconciliations on deck 8. And that was fine — Finance keeps the ship running.

That changed when I started working with the Pre‑Op team in August 2025. They had a massive spreadsheet problem: 71 tabs, one tab per patient cohort. Every reschedule meant cutting and pasting data between tabs. It was inefficient, and long days — 10 to 12 hours — were the norm.

Taming 71 Tabs

We consolidated everything into one structured sheet, added error checks, built filters and reports, and created a single place to manage patient flow instead of a spaghetti mess of copy‑paste.

• Admin assistant: saved ~30 minutes every day on reporting.
• Driver coordination: ~4 weeks of work down to ~1 week.
• Immediate detection of 80+ duplicate errors.
• Patient lookups: ~2 minutes down to <30 seconds.

Now, printing for other teams is a filter, not a manual paste. Rescheduling patients means picking from visible open slots because for the first time. you can see all available slots for the full field service. Planning for buses from up‑country uses projections, not guesswork. And more teams can finally see the same data: one source of truth. 

Lest it sound amazing, it’s not — there is still a lot of manual work, too many spreadsheets, and many opportunities to do more. This is not a story about “how great it now is” but a story of small incremental changes and the journey of getting there.

Why It Matters

Yes, it’s nerdy. But it’s also about people: an admin assistant goes home 30 minutes earlier; a coordinator plans instead of reacts; managers answer with confidence. When help is needed, it is less on feelings — “We’re underwater and have too much” — and starts running on data: “Here’s our caseload, here’s our capacity, here’s what’s next.”

That clarity changes leadership decisions, reduces the cognitive tax, and builds trust. It gives patients a better experience because the hospital isn’t scrambling behind the scenes.

God’s Irony

Here’s the part that makes me smile: God brought this finance/software operations person halfway around the world to help a hospital team in Africa by… fixing improving processes. Not performing surgery. Not running rehab. Spreadsheets. And yet they reduced stress, saved time, caught errors, built trust, and created margin. That margin creates rest, energy, sustainability.

From “We’re Underwater” to “Here’s the Data”

Before: “We have too much and the field service just began. We can’t imagine later when there are even more patients.” After: “Here’s how many patients we have. Here’s our capacity. Here’s what’s coming. Here are the obstacles that need to be resolved.” That shift turns frustration into information — something leaders and teams can act on.

Closing the Series

From open eyes and listening ears, to good habits, to caring for the team, to leaving space, to spreadsheets — this journey is teaching me that no act of service is too small. Spreadsheets or surgeries, what matters is that we are a team and we act like one. We are one and are all here for the mission. And in this season, God found a way to use the work of the Finance team to serve the mission of Mercy Ships.

Part 4 – Learning to Leave Space in Conversation

One of the biggest lessons I’ve had to learn on the Global Mercy is the value of leaving space in conversations. I come from California. I talk fast. I move fast. And in many settings that works. But on a ship with more than 40 cultures represented, moving fast in conversation can be…unhelpful.

Wednesday Morning Meetings

Every Wednesday morning, the Finance team meets. We check in. We go around the table. We ask, “What’s on your plate this week? What do you need help with? What’s coming up we should all know about?” Sometimes the room goes quiet. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Fifteen. Long enough for me — the fast‑talking Californian — to start squirming in my chair.

But when I hold back and let the silence sit there, something happens. Someone speaks. Sometimes it’s a small thing, sometimes it’s big — but it’s something we would have missed if I had rushed to fill the space. I can’t tell you how many times I thought task, issue, or accounting entry was resolved, only to hear in that pause that there was something left to do.

Silence Is an Open Door

Those awkward pauses aren’t empty. They’re an invitation. Space for someone to gather their thoughts, build courage, or decide, “this is worth bringing up.” In American culture, silence can feel inefficient, wasted time that could have been spent being “effective.” In many other cultures, it’s normal; it shows respect and careful thought.

Direct and Indirect

I’ve also had to learn the difference between direct and indirect communication. Some people (often from the Global North) will tell you plainly: “Here’s the problem. This isn’t good enough. Here’s what needs to change.” Others will hint or wrap feedback in a story to avoid embarrassment and keep harmony.

On this ship, you get both every day. If you only listen for one style, you miss half the conversation. I’ve missed indirect feedback because I was tuned to “direct,” and I’ve been perceived as harsh when I thought I was just being clear.

Learning to Toggle

So I’m learning to toggle: direct when clarity is crucial and the relationship allows; indirect when it is more well-received by the recipient. And to receive both with humility. Leaving space still feels awkward, but it works. A nine‑second pause can surface an issue that would derail us later. Giving time lets people process and speak in their own way.

Silence isn’t failure. It’s an invitation. And on a ship with 40+ cultures, it might be the most important leadership tool that I can still learn.

Patient Story

 As I have said before, I am not allowed to take pictures when in the hospital. There are countless moments I wish I could photograph to capture a smile, a first step, a dance party, you name it. But it's not only a patient privacy thing (like any hospital) but our communications team has to approve all photos before they are posted to the world. Thankfully, they come around often and I can get some of those special moments captured. The communications team followed one of my patients last field service closely and recently released her photos. I saved the ones I am in as well as a few that help tell her story. Enjoy!

Baindu came from a small town in Sierra Leone a few hours away from Freetown (the capitol where the ship is docked). Everyone under the age of 18 needs to bring a caregiver with them and for her it was her "Grannie". While it may obvious that one leg was bowed, both actually were and would need surgery. 

Before her surgery was done I met a quiet, reserved Baindu. Her eyes were questioning, but she was compliant with all photos and measurements that needed to be done. I measured her knees, hips, ankles, everything! We looked at her posture, how long she could stand on each foot, how she went up and down stairs and talked about her goals for the future. We prayed together for her surgery the next day. 

After surgery, we started with in bed exercises, standing and then walking with a walker. It was amazing to watch how well she could walk with straight "penguin legs" in two casts! 

After this she was able to walk without a walker and complete higher level balance exercises while still in casts. 

Eventually the bones were healed enough, the casts were removed and we could see those beautiful straight legs! Baindu and Grannie were able to go home back to there village, Baindu go to school, and be accepted back into the community! 

Please don't only see the beautiful straight legs she had in the "after" photos, but the smile and confidence she has going into the future. I can't help but these two photos side by side and see that difference as well. 

Thank you again for your love and support. I feel so privileged to not only use my gifts of physical therapy here but to share love and hope with each patient I encounter. 

Part 3 – Caring for Your Team

One of the things I was asked to do when I came on board was to help “gel” the Finance team. That meant different things: gentleness and a listening ear for our ship Finance team instead of telling others what to do, strengthening collaboration with our shore‑based colleagues, and improving our relationships with other teams on the ship. A year ago, some of those relationships weren’t as collaborative or servant‑leader oriented as they could be.

I came in with the opportunity — and honestly, the privilege — to lead as a caring, kind, loving, and gentle manager. That doesn’t mean there weren’t things that needed to be healed or changed. There were. But I also knew that one of my main responsibilities was to build people up. And I had the opportunity (and challenge) to slow down, listen, and care. For a fast-paced person, that can be hard.

Building Up and Encouraging

As a leader, one of the greatest joys is to encourage your team — it is fun, enjoyable, and a joy. To tell them “you’re doing a good job.” To help them with questions, or sometimes to not answer their questions, but instead respond with, “How would you solve that?” or “What do you think we should do?” Or sometimes even, “That sounds tough. What would you like to do about it and could you come back with a proposal?”

Those kinds of questions communicate something important: you are smart, you are capable, and you don’t need to wait for permission from me or anyone else to do the right thing — as long as you’re acting in line with the mission and values of Mercy Ships. That includes being customer‑centric, caring for crew, day crew, and patients, and building collaborative bridges across departments.

However…us Accountants aren’t always known for customer centricity or collaboration — the stereotype is that we hide behind spreadsheets. But here on the ship, that looks different.

Encourage and Challenge

Part of caring for the team is also challenging them. Not with the overused “do more with less” line. I don’t believe in that. I mean the kind of challenge that says, “I believe in you. You can be more efficient, more structured, more creative. You can rethink processes to save time, reduce errors, improve quality, and inform others better.” You can apply more of your own skillset and thought process.

One example: day crew stipends. For years, we paid about 300 day crew every two weeks using spreadsheets. It took 10–12 hours, and when we paid them, there was no pay statement. Day crew don’t have email addresses, and they work all sorts of shifts (day, night, weekend, etc.). Most of the time, they just wanted to know: “Was I paid correctly, and is it in my mobile wallet?”

We didn’t empower managers to answer these questions, and Finance was always reactionary. So we restructured the process, cut payroll time to 3–4 hours, and added automated stipend statements emailed to each manager, including who worked, how many shifts, how much they were paid, and savings choices.

Suddenly managers were empowered. They could answer questions. They could celebrate savings with their day crew. And they didn’t get blindsided.

From Tasks to Deliverables

We also worked on a small but important shift: from tasks to deliverables. A task is “pay the bill.” A deliverable is “pay the bill and tell the requester it’s paid.” That simple confirmation builds trust across departments and prevents a lot of guessing and frustration. That “small” change built so much trust not just across our onboard Finance team, but across the ship and the organization. Again, small, iterative steps.

Accountability as Care

Accountability isn’t punishment — it’s care. We all forget things. We all drop balls. Accountability says, “I care enough about this work, and I care enough about you, to help make sure it lands.” Sometimes that’s a difficult conversation. Over time, those conversations build dignity and trust. By saying “I’m holding you accountable to this” we’re saying “I believe in you and know you’re capable.” To ignore it and do it yourself takes away their dignity.

The result isn’t just better processes. It’s a healthier, more joyful team — one that cares for and prays for one another, and one that’s better equipped to serve the hospital and the mission of Mercy Ships. It is more fun, too.