Being Sick and Being Used

Hello friends! I just checked my email after a day or two of not having internet and found several messages from you all. It is such a blessing to hear from you, and to hear what the Lord is doing in your lives. I'm praising God for each of you :) The past three and a half days have been a little rough. I've been sick with some pretty nasty cold and flu like symptoms-though no fever, so I don't think it was malaria. I stopped working and pretty much sat around my house drinking military grade low osmolarity oral rehydration fluid and resting. Thankfully I seem to be slowly getting better, and hopefully I will be recovered before the weekend gets here.

      It has been very tough being sick. This is the first real week that Michael Chaney and I have been here together, and there a number of really exciting work projects that are getting jump-started. Michael and I are helping draw up a floor plan for a house that is getting renovated. We are painting a roof. We are going to be moving/redesigning and constructing a playground. We also might be painting a mural, building a chemical shed, ping-pong table, and number of other projects. It sounds exciting right?! Yet...I have been pretty much holed up in my apartment. I don't know about you, but I find it incredibly hard to do nothing, especially when I'm in a beautiful country and there's lots of exciting work to do and people to see. On top of that a lot of questions have been buzzing around my head, mostly in the form of: "God...why do I have to be sick? Can't You just heal me and let me go do something useful for Your Kingdom?" J God is using this time to really humble me, and remind me that I am here as His servant. Admittedly--it has been very hard, and I think at times I’m still battling with my will and agenda that want to get things done through my human effort. Please pray that God would continue to use this time to open my eyes, and that my heart would be receptive and my ears attentive to the Lord's voice.

       Although a large part of me really wants to get well, I have reached a peace about where I am at. God reminded me that it is not through my human effort or preparation that things “get done” for His kingdom. He reminded me of this through a pretty exciting event that occurred two days ago. There is a gardener who I will call O, who works on the Galmi compound. O waters the plants around my apartment, and every day between 10 and 10:30, he sits on my porch under the shade of my little overhanging corrugated zinc roof and takes his morning break. Because O speaks French, we have gotten to know each other over the past two weeks, and I typically sit with him during his break and we talk about Niger, its politics, the rain, crops, his family, etc. He is a really nice man, about the age of 50 with 6 children and has worked for the Galmi hospital for a long time. 

          Well, yesterday, I decided to try and sleep of some of my exhaustion, so I climbed in bed around 4 in the afternoon. However, I was having a really hard time getting to sleep. I got up and walked out on my porch to sit outside and enjoy the outdoors, and O happened to be hanging out on my porch. He and I started to talk and somehow our conversation got on the topic of churches. There are two churches in Galmi, one right next to the other that used to be the same denomination. Unfortunately, because of some sort of conflict in past years, they are now separate denominations throughout the country, and the missionaries at SIM evenly divide between the two denominations in an effort to be impartial. O noted the divide between the two churches, and I asked him what church he attended. He quickly replied that he didn't attend church and was a Muslim. We then began a very interesting and open discussion about Islam and Christianity. O proved to know much more about Christianity than I would have guessed and could even cite scripture that was relevant to our conversation. He had several astute observations—many of which I agreed with. He lamented people that said they were Christians and yet their actions did not indicate anything different than the rest of the world. He also took note of the fact that church as an institution seems to be fragmented and divided.

Eventually, I got the exciting opportunity to tell O my testimony. It felt so relevant to what we were talking about, because one of O’s biggest problems with God is that he thinks most people simply follow the religion they are born into. While I admitted that religious practice may be nothing more than an inherited set of traditions, I was able to share the truth that relationship with God completely transcends religion, and that God calls us to Himself from every corner of the globe and every scope of life. As one who was born into a Christian household, but who had to undergo a radical conversion at the age of thirteen to finally meet God, I was able to share how God is a relational God, and that He desires to fill us with His Spirit and give us His love, joy, and other fruit of the Spirit. I think the Lord was helping my French out J.

         I don’t know how much my story affected O, but shortly after I finished, he said he had to go and headed home. It’s amazing because if I had to measure the significance of the physical things I have done here at Galmi, that conversation might register as the most significant. Yet, I might never have had the chance to share the gospel with O if I hadn’t been sick. It was also amazing to see how one of the most (seemingly) significant events thus far at Galmi, did not come about because I was busy working, or because I did anything to make it happen. The conversation between O and I was a divinely planned encounter and had nothing to do with me. Awesome!

Please pray for O, that the Holy Spirit would work in his life, that the words I said might have some kind of impact, and that he would come to know Christ. Also pray that I would clearly demonstrate Christ’s love to the people around me, and that through that I would be a witness to what God has done in my life. Also pray that I would know how to continue speaking and loving O, and that the Spirit would lead in my future conversations with him. Finally, please pray for physical strength and healing. I am starting to feel better and that is a huge praise, but I still have a ways to go. Thank you for your prayers! You guys are in my thoughts and prayers as well. 

Kids who suffer

Well…it’s the weekend again, and here I am taking some time to sit, think, and update the blog. Much has happened recently that is worth writing about.  My close friend and brother, Michael Chaney joined me here in Galmi a few days ago. Michael and I have been friends since the third grade, and we have been together through the entire planning, preparation, and support raising process for this trip. I’m glad we can also share the experience of being here as well. We were talking the other day just about God’s faithfulness in bringing us to Niger. The raising of the 5000 dollars necessary to be here was something that both Michael and I recognized was completely impossible without God’s help. We were both in school, and only had around two months to raise the necessary funds for this trip. It’s amazing that despite our inadequacies, failed printings, missing letters and addresses, short time schedule, and a million other obstacles, God brought us here. We not only got to share the calls that God had put on our lives and our summers with a few hundred people, but God brought financial support to both us from the most unlikely of places. College students (ha!) gave to us despite not having funds; non-believers gave, recognizing that we are living our lives for something far greater than ourselves; a random stranger met once on an airplane gave; and we received several anonymous gifts. Michael and I had many doubts—raising so much money was scary, and we both had other less challenging opportunities we could have taken part in over the summer. But God wanted us to go to Niger and He provided a way. His present and guiding hand was unmistakable, and I just want to praise Him for His faithfulness in bringing us both safely here.

             

There are so many things that happen in a day that I could write about. There are no normal days—no boring days. Life is full of excitement and opportunity. Seeing God work in the lives of people around me, seeing His creation so alive and vibrant, and just being in a different country all give me pages of material to write about and mull over in my head.

             Recently I got to work/play with three little children that are patients of the Occupational Therapist that works here at Galmi. The two little boys and little girl were all about the age of 7 or 8, with faces that could model for any American clothing store. They each had beautiful smiles, bright eyes and smooth skin. All of them had arm injuries—the result of mis-handled fractures that got infected. I along with Michael and the OT at Galmi got to play with the kids by blowing bubbles with them, passing a ball and then drawing with chalk. I then got to go visit a 7-year-old girl that had just had her entire right arm amputated very close to her shoulder. I was one of the people to hold her arm before it was amputated. This girl was once again a beautiful child, smiling and shy. We blew bubbles with her and then watched as she tried to fit wooden blocks into various holes that were shaped accordingly. It was amazing because both groups of children seemed to have no understanding of abstract shapes. The first group of children had an extremely hard time drawing any kind of shape, and the girl with an amputation couldn’t seem to understand the idea that triangles fit into triangle shaped holes, while squares fit into square shaped holes.

It was all very shocking. Here were human beings who were so beautiful and yet so marred. They seemed like completely normal kids—full of energy and life, giggles and shyness and yet…almost all of them had huge crippling wounds that would forever alter their way of life. They were also so similar to me and yet so different from me—they were in the image of God, fine beautiful human beings, bursting with emotion, with so much potential, with souls that needed and still need to meet God in His fullness and be wed to Him; each with a story, a family, and a future. And yet…these children didn’t speak my language, they couldn’t understand something that seemed so simple and foundational to abstract thought—the concept of shapes, and their futures from my perspective seemed bleak at best. In the words of my OT friend, “Niger is not kind to left handed individuals.” In a culture where the left hand is considered dirty, and is used to go to the bathroom, and where shaking hands is such an important part of daily life and the formation of friendship, I can’t even imagine losing my dominant right hand in an amputation. Yet, today, I visited a shy seven-year-old girl who will never again be able to shake hands with her “clean” hand.

 It is difficult for me to understand why I was born so blessed. I have a family that is doing well. I have never gone hungry. My wants and whims have been so often satisfied. I get to take trips to do exciting medical things. I get to go to college and I use words like “career” and “major” to describe where I believe my life is headed. I have all of my limbs. For all of these things I thank God. But…today I met four people that don’t have any of the blessings I mentioned in their lives. And just the thought of four lives without any of those blessings astounds me. Perhaps even more astounding is the fact that I only saw the need of four little children—four out of how many thousands and millions of children, women, human beings that have so much need. It’s mind-blowing. Just to be play and touch a child that desperately needs help will change your perspective on suffering.

 It’s interesting because there is a definite tendency within me to want to only write about the things that I have figured out. In the process of growing up in the Lord, it seems that something happens in my life that gets me thinking, and I only understand the thing that I am thinking about after days, weeks, months or years of God using that thought or shaping my experiences to teach me something about Him. It feels great to write about the lessons that God has taught me. But there are so many lessons that God is in the midst of teaching me. These unfinished life lessons are a lot less fun to write about—one, because they lack a clean conclusion (something that has been subtly ingrained into me by college professors J ) but two, because it forces me to admit that I have a lot to learn and experience in terms of God’s goodness.

My experience with suffering is one of those lessons. While I definitely have cognitive answers for how God is big enough and good enough to have a plan for people that seem hopeless, I believe this is something that God is teaching me about. Perhaps it’s even the reason I am here—to learn what it means to suffer and to see God’s hand at work in the midst of suffering. Please pray for me, that God would open my eyes to see that He has a plan for even the most outcast and weakest of individuals. Also pray that I would recognize His plan in my life, and not be afraid to live it. Talking with Dr.’s here has been both exciting, invigorating, and terrifying. Please pray for me to love intentionally and fully as a vessel of God’s love. That’s all for now, but feel free to comment and tell me your thoughts and wisdom. Love you all!

Trusting Him who holds us

I didn't realize how long my last post was until I posted it. Wow-I don't think I'll be able to write that much again for a while. I just sat down after a long day and wanted to give an update before I relax for the weekend. Today I got to shadow more in the OR, and see around ten different surgeries, including the removal of a tumor from a minor salivary gland, several cesarian sections, and some other interesting procedures. The highlight of the day was the chance I had to actually do something that was hands-on medical. I got to put a cast on little baby girl--probably no more than four months old. She was so beautiful, but with a broken femur, and bruised pelvis. Normally the Galmi staff is very hurried in their routine. It's not rudeness, but some days the staff is hard pressed to finish the needed surgeries within the work day that is ahead of them. However, when this little baby patient entered the OR, she was such a sight to see. Most babies are moaning, and malnourished, with glazed eyes, and terrible symptoms. This baby was otherwise healthy, and vibrant, and as happy as could be. She smiled the biggest toothless grin, and half of the staff in the OR stopped writing down on their prescription sheets, and prepping IV's to come over and tickle her. Even the elderly Hausa men, who don't even flinch before tearing chunks of skin from burn victims, were completely enamored with the little girl. I had the privilege of holding her while several nurses carefully wrapped the baby's right leg in a very elaborate cast that rose to the baby's torso. The baby lost some of her smiles and laughter when the cast was being put on, but once done, she went right back to smiling. Awesome.

                   This is the her. Not wearing a smile but I think she was a little bit afraid of the paparazzi.

           It is so amazing to witness the skilled hands of a physician. To my un-trained eyes, it often seems like surgery is haphazard. Sometimes surgeries seem to require the greatest degree of delicacy and fine-tuned movement. A vein is lightly nicked by the surgeon's blade and then carefully cauterized to prevent blood flow. Layer upon layer of muscle tissue is meticulously separated to reveal and remove a tumor. Other times however, it seems like surgeries are just brute strength, and random cutting. In one cesarian section, a surgeon was literally yanking on a suture as one might pull a lawnmower chord to try and repair a ruptured uterus, while simultaneously keeping skin and muscle tissue open through the use of over a dozen or so surgical tools. I know that a surgeon has the knowledge and ability to know when to use force and when to be precise but to my untrained eyes-the difference in technique often seems random. I'm sure there is some spiritual metaphor that can be drawn from this, but I just thought this was interesting :)

A couple of months ago, my roommate, and I decided to take one or our mutual "friend-girls" out to dinner. On the way back from some great food and wonderful company, we were all asking all kinds of random get to know you questions, and this girl asked, "What fruit of the spirit do you most desire to see in your life?" That questions seems like such a simple question, but it has stuck with me for months now.  I really thought about it, and realized that if there was a spiritual fruit that was lacking in my life (one of many areas needing growth) it would be the area of faithfulness. Faithfulness is such an interesting word-at least in the English language (i have no idea about the Greek)-because to me it has so many meanings. It means to be full of faith-which in and of itself is a gift from God. However, it can also mean to be loyal, steadfast and abiding. As I think of my life, I realize more and more that God is calling me and all of us to a radical life of faithfulness. It is interesting because without faith, you will not remain faithful. If a husband loses faith in his marriage, he is not likely to remain faithful to his wife. If a man loses faith in his friend, he will not likely remain faithful to that friend in the face of adversity. The same applies to God. If we are not filled with faith in God, we will not be faithful to Him. We will neglect Him and forsake Him, both as faithless lovers and faithless friends. I know this has been the story of my life. Too often when my feelings tell me the world is coming down, my faith in the ever-loving, all-providing God gets sucked away. Very soon afterwards, my external actions mirror my internal status-I am unfaithful in my actions, my words or my thoughts. It is interesting however, because Jesus says "Abide in me." He is saying stay in me. Rest in me. Be faithful in me. Let me fill you with faith in me, so that you can stay in me, and not be faithless.

          It is also interesting because to have faith in something, in English, is almost the equivalent of trusting in something. If have faith in a bridge, then I also trust that a certain bridge will hold me. If I have faith in a friend, I trust that friend to be there for me. If I have faith in God, I trust him. Yet, you cannot trust something that you do not surrender to. I cannot trust a bridge to hold me up, unless I surrender myself to the ability of the bridge. I cannot trust a friend, unless I open myself up to that friend and give them something I can trust them with. I cannot trust a star, because there is no personal interaction between me and a star. I can trust a star to shine, but intrinsic within that trust is the possibility for that trust to be betrayed, and for the star to not shine. There is something about trust that means you must lean against that thing that you trust and risk the thing you trust giving way.

     To me this is so indicative of what God has been showing me in my life. I have been doing lots of soul searching, and talking to God, which is perhaps one of the biggest reasons why He called me to Galmi. But I realized...I have a lot of fears: I'm not giving enough, I'm not doing enough, I'm not being enough. I think I need to be the one doing things. I need to figure out my life. I need to be more spiritual. I need to love people more. I need to pursue God more. I need to surrender more. I think God just tapped me on the shoulder and asked me, "Do you trust me? Do you trust that I have your life in my hands, and that I deeply desire to give you good gifts? Do you trust my love for you? Do you trust me with your life? Do you trust me to be FAITHFUL and TRUE like I say I am? Do you trust me to make you faithful and faithful- full of faith, and abiding in me?" These questions are really penetrating. God is working change in me, whether I feel it or not, but right now is one of those beautiful moments when I can feel it. I write this because I think that there are some of you who perhaps identify with my struggles and need to hear these truths just as I do. Join me in praising the God of the universe, who delights in loving us, who holds us in His hands and who is faithful to us even to the end of the age!

Arrival

Dear Friends,

I hope you are all well! I'm so sorry for not updating or sending out much word about arriving here in Africa, or what life is like in Africa. It seems like just a second has passed since I was in the states, freaked out about whether or not I would ever board my first plane for JFK airport that would finally take me to my destination: Niger. Time has flown by, and the time that felt like a few seconds has almost been a week, packed to the extreme with truly incredible, incredible occurrences. To try and describe everything that has happened in me and around me would be pretty impossible, so I am going to try and hit the high points of the trip so far. 

     I left Atlanta on Thursday the ninth and began a very long trip. I flew to JFK airport in New York, and then to Casablanca. Flying to Casablanca was altogether an 8-hour affair, elongated even more by a three-hour wait on the runway (almost wrote funway ha!) before take-off. With around a total of 7 hours of sleep from the past two nights combined, I was a little tired. Thankfully, my eleven-hour layover in Morocco was really a rest and delight. I had the pleasure of meeting some undercover missionaries that were working in Casablanca, and got to hear from them firsthand about the persecution the Church is facing there, and the difficulty of living in a strictly Muslim and highly Arabic culture. I had planned on going to see the second largest mosque in the world with these missionaries, but ended up asleep on their couch for about 6 hours. The missionaries in Morocco were truly wonderful, and I am so thankful for their kindness and hospitality. 

      After this I got on a plane that flew to Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso, and then finally Niamey, Niger. I ended up getting to the place I was to stay at in Niamey around 5 in the morning and ended up sleeping in until 3 in the afternoon of that day. My hosts the Browns, were old missionary friends from back when my family was in Niger, and it was a treat to get to spend time with them. I had the chance to re-visit some very familiar places from my child-hood--places that seemed to have remained the same despite time. I got to bump into other old missionary friends as well: the Johnsons, the Childs, and the Kusserows-- kids that I had grown up with and hunted lizards with--now college students revisiting their old homeland, or getting ready to head back state-side. It was such an exciting time, and a little bizarre to see such familiar places re-inhabited by familiar and yet changed people. Just being in Niger, was such an exciting feeling. It's so hard to describe, but there are feelings one gets in Niger, that one gets nowhere else (at least that's what I think). The balmy, sand-ridden wind that sweeps down streets late at night. The smell of burning trash (one of my favorite smells). People at work listening to Nigerienne radio, and Nihm trees. It has been so good to be back!

      On Monday, I headed out to Galmi with the Stark family, the team leader of Galmi and her husband. The drive up to Galmi was again such a mind-blowing journey. The road that used to be so bad it would shake my dad's headlights from his Toyota Hilux, had been replaced by sweet smooth asphalt, and as we clipped along, the Nigerienne landscape was truly amazing to behold. Plateaus, sand mounds, scraggly bushes and Baobab tress. Large volcanic rocks and purple mountainsides, interspersed with bits of grassland, a hut here and there, and sometimes a lone traveler in the middle of nowhere just walking on his own. We finally arrived in Galmi at the end of Monday, and I have been there since. 

       Galmi hospital is truly amazing to be a part of. Because I don't as yet have any medical skill, I cannot actually perform medical procedures. However, I have had so many chances already to see so many amazing things, and to touch, to see and to smell the tangible physical needs and challenges present within Galmi. I got to comfort a woman as a cesarean section was being performed on her--my first actual surgery, but her third C-section. Her baby was living, which is too often not the case here. Then I observed the local occupational therapist (OT) who was helping in changing the bandages of burn victims, and I handed a few bandages or surgical tools to her when needed. We worked on three boys each of whom had severe tendon, and nerve damage on their right arms. The boys had all been damaged in different ways, but they all had similar visible damage that included missing digits, skin, and exposed muscle tissue as well as radius and ulna bones.  We worked with two other burn victims as well--one with third degree burns on his legs that exposed tendons, tibia and fibula, and then another patient who had surface tissue burns that had to be scraped clean minus anesthetic. 

      All of this was very...incredible. To be thrust into the crux of some very nasty things was something that I knew I was headed toward by the very fact that I had signed up for Galmi. Before I first went into surgery and viewing the cesarean sections, I thought I was going to be sick, but was actually surprised when I entered into the surgery and realized I felt totally fine. As the shock of seeing things that normal American college students my age don't get to see wore off, my shock was pretty quickly and totally replaced by fascination--a desire to learn more--and the realization that before me were real tangible needs. This wasn't Hollywood--the people before me were really suffering. 

     I think that has been one of my biggest realizations thus far. To come into a place like this one must be a vessel of God's love. There is too much pain and suffering even for a Dr., for it ever to be humanly dealt with in the right way. Yesterday, I got to work in the pharmacy splitting pills. There, I got to meet the pharmacy director--a very nice man, an elder in the local church, kind, gentle and with a big smile. Today as I was in the OR, someone came in and yelled out that the man had died. Apparently, as a single man and an epileptic, Ilya had died during the night alone. The news was shocking and saddening to me who had only known the man for a day, but for the rest of the hospital it was devastating. Out patient delivery was closed, and the entire compound shut down in preparation for this man's funeral, which by law must occur within twenty-four hours of death. At the work-shop on the compound, the man's friends got together and built his coffin, while his body was moved from the village into the cold room of the pharmacy--the one place for hundreds miles that could slow down the process of natural decay, but the one place that was perhaps most painful for him to go. 

         Pain and suffering must meet with the divine and supernatural force of God's love. I have already struggled with the fact that as a short-termer, undergrad student, I don't have the skills necessary to help in the ways that I want to help. There's something in me that echoes the sentiment of good friend of mine, that wants my hands to be able to touch people and be a vessel of good, love, and healing in their life. I want to put salve on burn victims and perform surgery--it's not just a scientific fascination, but a desire flowing from God's love for the people around me. But the cool thing that I am beginning to realize is that to spread the love of God, I don't have to be a Dr.. I can be an undergraduate student and love God with all that I am, and from that well-spring of life, begin to love others the way they need to be loved.

     I've also realized that sometimes the very fact that one does become a Dr., can limit one's ability to exercise that love of God. I don't want medicine to ever become an end, in and of itself. Ephesians 6:12 which states: “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms,” takes on a whole new meaning when dealing with medicine. As a potential Dr., my job is not to win against cancer, although I may fight cancer, or diabetes though I may give someone an insulin shot--my job is to use my gift, to share the love of God with some of the greatest pain and agony in the world and fight against the spiritual darkness surrounding individuals.

      Although I sound like I have things all figured out, most of this is sort of flowing out of me, and I'm processing all of this as I go. I think the blog idea may be very therapeutic just for that reason. Please pray for me, for this journey, and for this place. I am so inadequate in so many ways, and I see my own flaws as gaping holes that only God can fill. Sometimes I don't even know what to do to be helpful here, and other times I feel like I'm really getting the chance to be the hands and feet of Jesus. Please pray He would show me how to love Him most of all, and then to let love for others flow from that. Please pray I would be filled with the Holy Spirit, and see things through spiritual eyes. Not just through physical eyes. And even bigger than my needs are the struggles of the doctors who work here. Every day is a battle for them, with limited resources and limited expertise. They are the ones who lose patients every day to crippling disease and death. Please pray that they wouldn't be discouraged, de-sensitized, burned out, or otherwise removed from God's calling in their lives. Finally, please pray the people here and in this nation. They need hope, and they need love so desperately. I was thinking the other day: how are people supposed to sustain agriculture and move up in the world when they live in a desert without water? That is the reality for so many, and when they have a medical problem they generally have no idea what to do. Lift them up with me.

      Thank you so much for your support and prayers. It is so encouraging to know I have brothers and sisters across the world in prayer for me. Please keep praying and I hope to update you soon!