Today is the day, let it be so

"Give thanks to the Lord, call on his name; make known among the nations what he has done. Sing to him, sing praise to him; tell of all his wonderful acts. Glory in his holy name; let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice. Look to the Lord and his strength; seek his face always." (Psalm 105: 1-4)

Did I love well, Lord? I know the answer, or at least part of the answer, is that it doesn't matter what I did or think I accomplished.

As I think about the summer and reflect upon what has happened, I wonder if I exhausted myself in love. My fear is that I settled for less or that I didn't do enough. The truth is I am but a small part of the work in Kenya. Quite frankly, with or without me, the Lord is at work. What a joy to be a part of the work for this short time and to see Him glorified in new ways.

This summer has taken me on a journey spiritually. The slow fade that occurred during medical school became obvious towards the end of my semester and I knew that the Lord was starting to reclaim what was His. I look forward to sharing the lessons I learned with you all during my report at the church. Some things are just better in person and I can't wait to bear witness to all that I saw, heard, and learned.

As for this day, it is the day and my heart must learn to accept its coming. Unfortunately, I feel like I am leaving a life that I was made to live. To know that you have found your "place in the world" is rare, to be confident of where you belong is also rare and I am thankful to have been given that insight. But, it is that knowledge that makes it hard to leave AFREEKA! I am more certain than ever that I am to finish medical school. I have seen a vision and been motivated on the path. I must return because school has reared its demanding head. There is peace in the journey home. There is hesitation to return to the life that is waiting in Jackson. I have vowed to do things differently this year. I don't want to lose myself in the process and it is too easy to do. I pray that I don't too quickly forget the lessons of the summer. I pray that as Kate and I travel back to the States, that we will have a peace over the work of the summer and the schooling that lies ahead of us. I look forward to seeing you all and hearing of what God has done in each of your lives. Again I tell you thank you for your faithful support and encouragement. I am blessed beyond measure with a family the size of FBC Senatobia!!!

Here in Kenya they say, "It's only mountains that never meet, people always meet." How true this has been in return to this wonderful country. I love you all and will see you soon!

Goodbyes and Tomorrows

“And by your name we cry, Abba Father” As I sat in church this Sunday, trying to take in every single moment, I was struck by something completely different than what I expected. It being our last Sunday in Litein, I wanted to remember the songs, smells, the sounds and the words spoken. I wanted to remember the face of the pastor and every small detail but what I remember instead are the sweet voices of the children from the orphanage in Litein. There is something about hearing orphaned children sing your praises, Lord, that break my heart every time. To hear them say, “Lord I lift your name on high. Lord I love to sing your praises. I’m so glad you’re in my life, I’m so glad you came to save us.” It seems amazing to me, how forgiving children can be. The adult in me struggles with the “why” of so many things of this world (orphaned children being one of them). They willing cry out thanks to God for their lives because they have some food and a place to sleep and feel protected. My heart screams out for them questions that aren’t mine to express. I sit comfortably on my bench in church, tears rolling down my cheeks because I can’t help but think of all the things they have experienced – the pain, the rejection, the fear, the uncertainty. These children are stronger than I could ever hope to be. Instead of cursing or blaming God for the evil that they have been exposed to they thank Him for the good He has done.

I praise you Lord for your faithfulness in the lives of your children all over the world. I thank you for rescuing your children and placing them in foster care, adoption agencies, and children’s homes. Thank you for giving them a second chance in this life to know love and joy as you designed it. But, I beg your protection and provision for the sweet children that are still sleeping on mounds of trash and who know the pain on starvation all too well. May they know, in some small way, your love today so that they might have hope to carry on in a world void of any hope of its own to offer.

Now… for a change of pace I’ll fill you in on what our schedule looks like for the next week. It seems that our time in Litein, has indeed, ended too quickly. We are leaving on Wednesday for Massai Mara. We will go on safari there and then head into Nairobi before leaving on July the 26^th. It has all passed so fast and I am not quite ready to return to the world of packed schedules, busy lifestyles, and time demands. It has been so nice to “be free” here in Kenya. My heart rejoices at the time the Lord allowed and all that I have learned, seen, and done. My “clay made heart” aches to question the gentle, firm hands of my potter… but I will refrain again. I take comfort in knowing that I am but a small piece of the puzzle and that my faithful Father is always at work. I don’t fully understand all that the Lord has done or is doing through this stay but I do know that He IS doing something.

“Now we know in part but soon we shall know fully, just as we are fully know.”

Pray for God’s grace as we say goodbye to all of our friends at Litein. Pray that God provides closure in our work and a sense of completion for the summer. And lastly, pray that God provides safety in our traveling and continues to draw us closer and closer in His arms. It is easy to shut down and prepare for the end and miss an encounter with the Lord, I pray that this final week allows time to really reflect and draw near to our gracious, loving Lord. May God bless your lives this week with enough joy to make you fully aware of his presence.

I will lift my voice

Often I feel useless here. I am not a doctor yet and so have little to offer these people in the way of medical help. I have the gospel and the hope that comes with accepting it but so many here proclaim to be “born again”. So… what do I have to offer? What can I do for them…I can tell their stories. That is what I will do tonight.

I have become attached to a woman in the hospital. Her name is Grace and I met her two weeks ago. I was helping in the HIV clinic when she was brought in by her family. Her family looked scared, and she looked desperate. She was tiny and couldn’t walk in on her own. As I began to take her vitals, I realized that the adult blood pressure cuff wouldn’t fit her arm because it was so small. Her temperature was sky high and her pulse was racing. I pushed her through the line and called the doctor to see her immediately. I wanted to help her. She was seen by the doctor and blood work and an x-ray were ordered. I wheeled her through the hospital and took advantage of my skin color to get her test done quickly. We returned to the clinic and the doctor admitted her immediately. She was diagnosed with HIV associated neuropathy.

Since that day, I have visited her and her family most every day. She has had days that she knew me, spoke with me in Kiswahili and some English. She has laughed and gone outside to walk with her sister. But, there have been days, like this past Thursday, that she didn’t recognize anyone, was distracted, and was unable to speak. It broke my heart to see her decline so quickly in one day. I have had the opportunity to talk and pray with her family. They are all believers but have needed support and prayer. What I learned is that Grace is the oldest of four children. They were orphaned as children and Grace was widowed two years ago. The brothers and sisters have been at the hospital everyday sitting with their sister. They have asked for continued prayers, and I know that there are many who would gladly join me in lifting up this family during a time of uncertainty and sickness. In the mean time I will try to figure out what else I can do for this family. They have been so kind to bring me pineapples from their shamba in the evenings when I visit. It breaks my heart every time to know that these people are giving to me when they have so little. What a lesson for me to learn.

Thank you for joining with me to love, support, and cover in prayer Grace and her sweet family. Pray that she will be able to eat again soon and regain strength. Pray that the Lord would strengthen her immunity and that the medicine she is taking will start working. And, pray for her family as they struggle through watching their sister die of a terrible disease.

“Is any one of you in trouble? He should pray. Is anyone happy? Let him sing songs of praise. Is any one of you sick? He should call the elders of the church to pray over him and anoint him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up.” (James 5:13-15)

Life Eternal

Often in my life I have wrongly believed that death in Africa was not mourned and grieved as it is in America. I suppose I thought that death in Africa was expected and accepted because it happened so frequently. And, they do not have the same medical opportunities available to prolong and even at times prevent death. Oh how wrong I have been. Many of you are probably scoffing at my lack of understanding but this is probably not the first time, nor the last time that will happen.

It seems that I have seen and experienced death in ways I never knew were possible. I guess it started my second day in the hospital when we received a patient in casualty, dead on arrival. It was so calm. No one buzzing around starting chest compressions or hooking up tons of machines, no one was yelling orders or ordering drugs… they just pronounced him dead. Since then, it has built and expanded as I have heard the screams throughout the halls of the wards as one more life has ended before the family was ready. The screams startle me every time. The beginning of the mourning process among this tribe is to scream out, as loud as possible, until no strength is left. Sometimes there are tears, sometimes there is thrashing and pacing that accompanies the screaming – regardless it is the sound of total despair. In this sense, there is no such thing as silently bearing the weight of grief alone. Other visitors near the commotion run to the family to offer support and strength. It reminds of me of the time my grandmother passed away. It seems that our kitchen was filled with so many of you, coming for my mother, before I even really knew what was happening. I suppose this is just further proof of our need for each other, and God’s infinite design for His children. We’re really not that different, you and me.

These sounds are not my only encounter. I never knew, until now, the lingering smell and presence of death. On two different occasions in the female ward I have come into contact with this lingering presence. It was surreal at first. It was inescapable. I remember looking at a patient that already appeared to have left her earthly body. I kept starring at her hoping to see her chest rise and fall, signs that she was somehow still breathing. It was clear to me that the medical interventions that they were trying in the hospital would only help so much longer. Death was imminent and I could feel its closeness, and I knew there wasn’t anything that could be done. I watched the family members swirl around her trying to adjust her blankets, her oxygen mask, trying to make her comfortable and I am sure, trying to avoid thinking of the inevitable.

The lesson, I am sure, is obvious this time. Our days are limited. Eternity has been set in the hearts of all men but earth eternal is found only in the Father. We as humans, being made in the image of God the Father, desire relationship. Regardless of what continent we live on, we need other people. Death is never easy for us and I am not sure that it should be. If it were easy to say goodbye would we have experienced all that we were designed to experience? Then again, maybe some of what we search for in others is to be fulfilled by the Lord alone and we subject ourselves to more pain this is necessary. Not sure that I have the answer to this one yet. Regardless of the answer, it is my prayer that we all will love boldly this week knowing that death is a reality.