Going "Home" Once Again! :)

Home. It is one of those words that I never know what to do with anymore. There is my real home, the place I was born that holds all of my childhood memories, the Northern Minnesota area. I am reminded, as I am home for the Christmas holiday, of all the baking, sledding, and Christmas-traditions my family has practiced and celebrated for so many years. My family is what makes up the most prominent sense of "home" that there can be. However, I feel that word "home" describes so many other places and people in my life.

Dear friends (both childhood and new), my Bible Study small-group, and places like Deeper Life Bible Camp all hold a feeling of "home" to me as well. Places of community and belonging where you've been a part of other people's lives, and they've been a part of yours. The most recent "home" I've found myself missing, however, has been the Africa Mercy. A big, floating metal box that most of the crew jokingly say is made of glass, "like a big fish bowl". Everyone sees everything and knows everything with any form of a secret being difficult to keep. This large, white hospital ship has been my home for 9 months of the past 2 years of my life. Despite the negative aspects of living in close community with 400+ other people, the depth of friendships, memories, and multi-cultural experiences both on and off the ship make is difficult to forget.
It is a place all of it's own that I often find my heart longing for.


It's almost a cruel trick of Mercy Ships, that they bring crew members from all over the globe to one place to have you come together, deeply invest in one another's lives, share life-changing experiences as you work side-by-side bringing about the healing and restoration of so many, and then sent back home hundreds, or even thousands of miles away from those dear friendships and memories.

However cruel or loving their gestures really are, I have decided to head back to the Ship for the Togo, 2012 outreach! Thanks to SO many generous gifts from many who contributed to my Sierra Leone trip in 2011, I had left over funds equal to the cost of 2 months of crew fees on the ship. I struggled with the idea of going back to the ship as I've been in Minneapolis the past few months, wondering if my desire to go back was selfish in nature, or really was what God was putting on my heart. To be honest, I never really felt a specific direction from the Lord, but eventually decided to apply and see what happened. Needless to say, I was accepted back (officially)not more than a week and a half ago (see what happens when you wait till the last minute), but already had most of the details of travel and preparation organized and ready to go. :) It's beginning to be a bit routine, which just makes me laugh to think about. Who ever thought I'd end up where I am today? I definitely never did. :)

So, January 23-March 19th I will be onboard the Africa Mercy again serving in the wards and helping with outreach set up. I'm not sure what specific capacity I will be serving in or in what specialty I will be working, but I anticipate that I will be asked to be a charge nurse again. As far as which specialty- I'll just have to wait and be surprised! :)


The special joy of going back for this outreach is the fact that this will be a return trip for me to Togo, West Africa. Togo holds a special place in my heart as it was the first country I traveled to with Mercy Ships. I have already had multiple Togolese friends who are returning to work on the ship email me or facebook me, telling me how excited they are to see me! It will be a wonderful reunion! I cannot wait! Not only are the day volunteers (local Togolese workers) going to be cause for reunion celebration, but many dear friends are still onboard who I will see again, including my very first Mercy Ships friend I made, Laura Coles. She actually is working in my old role as one of the Clinical Ward Educators! I will admit I am glad to have passed the baton onto her. Not that I didn't enjoy the teaching and orientation aspect of Clinical Ward Educator; it's just that through that experience I realized that details and secretarial work were NOT my forte! :) She will be fabulous! And I can't wait to "help out" if needed as well. :)


Not only that, but I will be traveling back to the ship on January 17th with an old roommate from Sierra Leone, Melisa, who will again be my roommate for the 2 months I'm on the ship this outreach! Woo-hoo! :) We'll fly to Europe together and then spend a few days there visiting Mercy Ships friends and getting over jet lag before heading to the ship on the 23rd. :)

As I've been preparing and tucking money away to pay for my plane ticket and costs at home while I'm gone, God has financially provided in 2 huge ways for me that only served as evidence of His heart for my return:

1) As I was calling to re-order my extremely expensive anti-malaria medication (expecting the cost of my 2-month prescription to run around $250-$350), the pharmacist informed me that Malarone (the medication), had recently gone generic, and so the cost of my 2 month prescription would be $10. WHAAAATTT???!!! What a HUGE blessing from the Lord!

2) About a month ago I talked with my landlady about the possibility of going back to the ship for 2 months. As I was describing my potential plan to her, she immediately offered, without hesitation, to waive my rent and, instead, charge me a small fee to not only hold my apartment, but also keep my things all set up and ready for me when I returned. My eyes filled with tears at her generosity and support. In all honesty, her offering became one of the biggest financial factors enabling me to go due to the unforeseen inconsistency of my temp nursing job. I didn't know what to say except a heartfelt "thank you".

I'm still working to raise the last bit of funds to cover all my costs for this trip, but if I have learned anything from the last 2 years of my life, it is that God is the Great Provider; faithful and loving beyond our wildest imaginations. There is no one like Him.


If you would consider praying for my time onboard, as well as the entire Togo, 2012 outreach, I would greatly appreciate it. I can't wait to send you more stories faces of beautiful Africans whose lives have been touched and changed forever.

The Big-City Girl

Ok... so not really. :) I've had a lot of friends ask if I've fully integrated into "city life" here in Minneapolis, and my answer is usually two-part.

Yes. In many ways I've thoroughly enjoyed all the people, the diversity of culture and fact that I can walk down the street or in the grocery store and hear languages other than English being spoken. I have also seen some of the most breath-taking city views of my life driving across the many bridges within Minneapolis and St. Paul at night. (I still think they should allow full-stops along the I35W bridge for tripod set up and photos at night):) I've pretty well adjusted to the traffic and big-city safety mentality of always locking your car, being aware of your surroundings at all times, etc, but that's kind of been my normal with the traveling I've been doing the past couple of years.

On a separate note, I desperately miss the fresh air, and places where you can just go and swim or fish or be by yourself in nature. I miss the small farmer's markets, favorite little Bemidji shops and restaurants, and the ridiculous way you run into everyone you know while shopping at Walmart. :) Most of all, I think I miss the community of a smaller town/area. Maybe I just miss my Bemidji community, but loneliness has honestly been one of my biggest struggles while I've been here. Don't get me wrong, I've been making new friends and connecting with friends I already had down here, but it just seems that the loneliness is more pervasive with living alone and not having friends to just do life together with. It's definitely left me, again, more and more reliant upon God's faithfulness to my heart, giving me peace and comfort in His presence as I've sat here wondering, "What am I suppose to do next?".

It's left me thinking a lot about what it means to live a faithful life to God. Trying to make sense of the unknown seems to be sewn throughout all ages and walks of life, and so what is the difference between someone just living, and someone living in an eternally-impacting way? Really, I suppose all it means is living obediently to God in what He is calling us to do. I feel like many, however, would further expound on that and say to "follow your heart" because what we feel, God put there and so we should just go with that.

I understand that thought process and agree to it to a certain sense, and yet where do our desires fit into all of that? If I WANT something, does that mean that I should assume it's from God and pursue it (assuming it's not illegal or against Biblical standards)? But then I think about Biblical examples... I don't remember Jesus asking the disciples what they wanted to do, or asking them what was on their bucket list, and yet that is how I think many of us live (including myself!).

I guess in this season, I'm just trying to process through my life; how my desires and goals fit into seeking God, desiring His heart, and obeying Him.

On a more practical note, my agency nursing work has been very challenging not only with trying to get enough work hours, but also with the constant moving from hospital to hospital, and unit to unit with little consistency. Thankfully, I got a 3-week agreement to work on Gillette's NeuroScience unit 3 days/week and am in my final week there and have LOVED it! It has been INCREDIBLE to get back into pediatrics and I have learned SO much just being there! :) On a similar note, I'm hoping to start for some shift coverage at Shriner's Children's Hospital this next week! Yaaayy!!! God has been SO good! I'm SO blessed and excited to be going there!

But, I'll keep you all updated with some more pictures soon! :) Just wanted to write a little life-update for now. :)

The Minneapolis Move!

I'm here!

The Minneapolis move has finally been complete! :) I've been here now for about 2 1/2 weeks and it's been a wild ride! The move started on October 1st to this little Minneapolis neighborhood, and thanks to my wonderful family, we packed 2 cars full and moved down in one day! :)


To jump back to the month of September, after I survived Hurricane Irene (literally) in upstate New York on my way home from Europe, I jumped back into small town life in my hometown; Bemidji, MN, staying with my parents and enjoying catching up on all the lives of my dear family and friends. While it was a great adjustment time going through Europe and New York on my way home, it took me nearly that whole 4 weeks home in Bemidji to feel like I was adjusting back to small town life. To me, Bemidji seemed almost like a ghost town after living in Freetown (a city with 2 million people), and then Europe. However, the warm faces and amazing conversations with Bemidjians soon warmed me up to that culture once again. And then just when I felt like I was acclimating back to Bemidji, BAM! Time to move to Minneapolis.

Why Minneapolis, many of you may ask? In short, because I didn't feel the time was right to move back into Sanford or take a permanent job there. There is still a lot of transition happening there and I didn't have peace about taking a more permanent job. So... with Medical Staffing Network (MSN-my old travel company I went to NY with), I was able to get a position as an agency nurse- essentially a temp Medical-Surgical nurse in the Fairview health hospital system. So, over the past couple of weeks I've learned an entirely new computerized documentation system, new health system, and have floated to about 10 different units in 3 different hospitals (a different unit every day except for one repeat day). I thought I was pretty flexible on the Africa Mercy... but nooo! This job has been teaching me the epitome of flexibility! I don't know how much more flexible Jesus wants me... I feel like Gumbee would have some significant competition at this point. ;) But either way, it was very apparent through God's provision of this job and the apartment I am in that he wants me here for now.

Speaking of which... many of you (yes, you, Mom and you, Aunt Noreen) have been wanting to see pictures of my homey little apartment... so please join me on my whirlwind tour with the photos below:

To start... come into the African living room!








Now come into the European kitchen (with the lovely window)!
















The beautiful "bedroom" (curtained off area)...






And two snapshot of beautiful Lake Nokomis- only a couple miles from my house! :) Is Minnesota beautiful or what?




So far I have been enjoying Minneapolis, the people, the cultures, the restaurants (they have sushi places here!), and old and new friends. :) I've been attending a few churches and am hoping to settle on one here in the next few weeks. I've found a young adult Bible study group and am really praying for some good time for reflection with the Lord during this season of living alone and more change. It's not what I thought I would be coming home to, and that has been difficult for me to cope with, but I want to continue struggling with the Lord through those things.

I hope all is well with you this season and pray for God's revelation within your hearts as well as my own! :) Blessings from the Twin Cities!

Pictures along the journey...

Our dive team got to dive in... "interesting" water conditions...


Me and one of my patient's families! N'Falie, Raymond, and Raymond's daughter, Rachel!


Me and my little babies! Gladys and Asthma (or "Baby-doll" as we nurses have nick-named her).


Me and Timo with Gladys! (She's John's little sister who was saying my name by the time they left the Hope Center). My "daughter" as all the day volunteers called her.


A couple of our 8-plate girls, Fanta and Blessing(Mariama)!


Visiting their whole family in Bo, Sierra Leone! :)


Our last groupie get-together for dinner at Mamba Point before we left!


Timo and Fanta- the SWEETEST picture!


Fanta and I! Awww... what an angel!


On the way to our plane at the Freetown Airport.


Goodbye Sierra Leone!

The Joy of Loss

“This man is the happiest amputee I’ve ever seen”

The words “joy” and “amputation” rarely find themselves in the same sentence, but for Mohamed, the two unmistakably found one another like close friends.

After a terrible accident, Mohamed’s left arm was torn and twisted to the point of inability of use. He worked as a taxi-car driver, and had since been unemployed, fighting constant infection of his left arm prior to coming to Mercy Ships. After months of antibiotic treatment and waiting for healing, Mohamed was left with an arm absent of feeling or movement and a continuous battle with osteomyelitis (infection of his bone). I still remember seeing him come into B ward with his left arm wrapped up in yellowed gauze; a handkerchief holding up his arm as a sling. The smell of the infected wounds permeated to whole ward. I knew we needed to have him shower and then have his dressing changed. My dear friend, Rachel, (or “ward nurse Crooks” as we endearingly called her), was caring for him that night. I recall us catching one another’s eye and giving each other a knowing glance. With that, she got him into the shower and I called the doctor.

For West Africa, his wound and dressing care was actually quite good. There was real gauze and not pieces of dirty cloth and plastic like I’d often seen before. As we unwrapped the old dressing, you could see where the body had attempted to heal itself around the open shards of bone that protruded from various points along his left forearm. I had never seen anything like it. Using a bowl, basin, and 3 chlorhexidine sponges, Rachel and I gently cleansed his arm and removed the smelly dressing. We kept checking with Mohamed, asking him if he was experiencing pain as we washed over the open areas. In return, he just smiled and shook his head no, providing further evidence that his arm was absent of any feeling.

His countenance seemed better that evening after a shower and fresh dressing, but I noted an aura of heaviness that still surrounded him as I finished up my evening charge shift.

That next evening I returned for another evening charge shift and was met by a radiant, smiling face from B20. Mohamed had come back from his above-the-elbow amputation, and he was beaming with happiness. It seemed so ironic that I had to stop and consider what situation I was truly looking at. I was processing through all of this as I greeted him in Krio, asked about how his pain was, and shook his right hand warmly. His left arm stump was elevated on pillows with a clean, white pressure dressing wrapped snuggly around it. All I could think to myself was, “this doesn’t make sense”.

As the shift went on, I continued thinking about and considering what this man had been through, not only physically in the last 24 hours, but over the past 6 months since his accident. He’s had a (nearly) dead, hanging limb that has been constantly infected for the past 6 months. The weight of it physically with carrying it in a sling and needing to perform wound care, financially with not longer being able to work and needing to see various doctors and take rounds and rounds of antibiotics, as well as the emotional burden of not feeling like the same person he once was would be enough to break any man. And so here he sat in bed, smiling away, ready for his new start.

Dr. Bruce, his surgeon, was thoroughly convinced that he could get much better use of his left arm with the fitting of a good prosthesis. And as far as prostheses go, Sierra Leone is the best West African country to be in because of their excellent prosthetic clinics following the civil war. What an incredible blessing for him. When his wife came to visit him on the ship, they joyfully chatted with one another, their eyes full of hope and happiness.

Every day following that I saw Mohamed, he was smiling, free of pain, and free of the weight of 6 months of struggle. Up until the day he was discharged, one of the attributes all of us nurses gave to him was,

“This man is the happiest amputee I’ve ever seen.”

And so he was.

The last day on the Africa Mercy

August 15th has come and gone now, and I am left wondering, “where did 6 months go?” At the beginning of the outreach, when I first arrived onboard the ship on February 28th, the 6 months loomed before me like a distant horizon. In my mind I knew it would sneak up behind me and surprise me , but at the same time if felt like an eternity away.

Well, now it was here and gone. So strange.

If it was difficult to leave the Africa Mercy during the Togo outreach in 2010 after 3 months, leaving the Africa Mercy after 6 months showed me how much deeper you can lay down your roots. I cannot tell you how many times people kept saying, in shock,

“ What? You’re LEAVING? I thought you were long-term?”

Ha ha! I heard it SO many times. In many ways, this outreach has been an eye opener for me at the importance of long-term crew and their need to be supported as I’ve “subbed” into a long-term position the last 3 months of my time there in the Ward Clinical Instructor position. The In so many ways I still feel like I left with so much left in transition for all the hospital staff, and can’t help feeling a sense of abandonment to them in the midst of this need, and yet the Lord reminds me it’s not about me or what I can see, but Him and His plan. I continue to have peace about his timing even in the midst of not seeing how or why.

So here I sit, in Holland, at the home of one of my good Mercy Ship’s friends, trying to adjust back to the Western world of order and cleanliness. The friends I made on the ship and relationships I’ve left behind remind me of the importance of what can happen when you fully give yourself to the Lord’s work. Not that I have done that anywhere near perfectly, but at the same time I see so much of the hand of God, that I just can’t deny his work.

Which leaves a wonderful segway into this next season of life- the unknown future. I know that in the days, weeks, and months ahead, God will be just as faithful to lead and guide and direct me unto HIS purposes as I continue to process through Sierra Leone and how it seems I fit in with His plan for this world.

In response to that, I cannot continue without thanking each of you who have been the direct hand of the Lord through your support of me financially and in prayer. Truly, truly, truly, without you, I would NOT be here. God worked a miracle through the financial support you have all given me to even complete my 6 months. I would covet your prayers in the future as well as I pray and process through my experience in the upcoming months.

For now, I’m on an 8-day European “tour” which essentially means visiting Mercy Ships friend to Mercy Ships friend in Holland, Germany, and Belgium before flying back to America. This time, I know, is such a gift, and I look forward to the break before the full jump back into my cultural reality. So here’s to long train rides of prayer and processing! Stay tuned as I hope to be posting pictures, etc during my long train rides. May God continue to guide and richly bless each of you.

Love in Him,

~Anna~

Leaving for Bo, Sierra Leone! :)

This Friday afternoon (22 July), the UMVIM (United Methodist Volunteers in Missions) team I’ll be joining for my 2 week trip to Bo will be coming onboard the ship for an Africa Mercy tour! I feel like a new mom or something, showing my home to visitors and fellow Americans! It will be so much fun!

After a ship tour and presentation, I’ll be leaving with the team to head down to Bo (Sierra Leone’s second largest city about 3 ½ hours southeast of Freetown) after a night in a local hotel. I most likely won’t have internet access (or very limited) during that time, so there will not be any more of my blog updates during that time.
If you would like to follow the UMVIM team blog with what we are doing, feel free to check out their blog site (I may be writing one of the posts at some point):

http://africanprograms.org/blog/

I’ll hopefully be visiting my World Vision sponsor child one more time as well as some of my orthopedic patients while I’m in Bo, so I’m very, VERY excited for my time in-country! That and the fact that I get to spend 2 weeks playing with balloons, coloring crayons, crafts, and songs with 5-8 year old sweet Sierra Leonean children for 2 weeks! It will be like the best vacation imaginable! I can’t wait!

Look forward to talking with you all again in 2 weeks! :)

Happy, Healthy... Hernias?

Yes, you heard me right. Hernias! Now before you all run to left field, let me explain myself.

Usually, at this point in the outreach, we have 3 surgical specialties running onboard the ship; Max-fax, General, and VVF (Vesico-vaginal Fistula). Because of Mercy Ships’ prior work in Sierra Leone, a local Women’s Health/ VVF clinic for bladder reconstruction was started and has continued serving the women of Sierra Leone for the past number of years. In this respect, we, as Mercy Ships, worked ourselves out of a job! It is wonderful not to be needed and be able to focus our efforts on other needed surgeries. So, at this point in the 2011 Sierra Leone outreach, we have only Max-fax and General surgeries running.


“General” surgery does not mean any and every surgery, although our current surgeon, Dr. Bruce Steffes, can and will do just about any surgery needed. The typical general surgeries we perform onboard the Africa Mercy are hernia repairs, hydrocele repairs, lipoma removals, keloid removals, and thyroidectomies (goiter removals). Unfortunately, we were unable to secure an agreement with the government of Sierra Leone to commit to provide levothyroxine (the artificial thyroid hormone tablets needed daily after the thyroid gland is removed), and so we were unable to ethically perform this much-needed surgery without the promise of this medication supply. This greatly limited the variety of our surgeries to… you guessed it… hernias, hydroceles, and lipomas (with a definite emphasis on hernias!).

When I first found out that being a “general” charge nurse meant caring for a bunch of middle aged men with hernia’s, I just about took a plane home. However, as our team as grown and we’ve all become more comfortable with the surgery and care for our patients, we’ve all “settled in” to what we fondly call “Hernia Land”, a.k.a. B Ward.
That is where I have been working the past 2 ½ months prior to (and on and off during) the start of my Clinical Ward Instructor job share position. It’s still my home ward I work as charge nurse on my “off” weeks. While it may sound strange, I’ve come to enjoy and appreciate each of the surgeries we perform. Looking at most of the patients when they first come in, you usually can’t see anything wrong with them, but it’s the unseen malformation that, at times, is the difference between getting married and/or being unable to work.

Onboard the ship, you will never find the general (hernia/hydrocele) surgeries in the limelight, and they are rarely mentioned in Mercy Ships literature or boasted about on tours. However, the number of men (and women) affected by hernias in Sierra Leone is such a high number, that despite our 6-9 surgeries per day, we still have a waiting list that is well over 500 people that grows by the day. This is an enormous need. While it may seem a bit far-fetched to claim that these hernia surgeries are “transforming people’s lives”, I would beg to offer the thought some consideration. Just because there is a need that makes us feel a bit uncomfortable or is not quite “politically correct” dinner conversation, doesn’t mean we should minimize its importance or the impact in can make in the lives of hundreds of men (and women).

We had a group of men from the provinces (surrounding rural villages/areas) who came in for their hernia surgeries. The evening of their surgery day, as they all lay in their beds resting, I heard them talking to one another in Krio as I walked up to them to see how they were doing. They praised our excellent and compassionate care of them on the ship, and all I could respond with is, “you the reason we all come, we raise support, and volunteer our time is because of our love for Jesus and desire to be more like Him.” The man, and his neighbors answered, “I know. And because of what we have seen and experienced, we want to go back to our villages and preach the gospel”. Later that night, they all requested their own Bibles so they could take them and “preach” once they arrived back home. It reminds me of the St. Francis of Assisi quote,

“Preach the gospel always, and when necessary, use words.”


That is truly a testimony of God’s incredible work, even through the “unmentionable” surgeries few will ever hear about. Praise be to Him for what He has done and what He will continue to do.

In His Love,

~Anna~

Sometimes He Calms the Storm

The Lyrics to one of my favorite, old-time Christian songs by Scott Krippayne has been circling through my head the past month, reminding me of the truth of scripture…


“Sometimes He calms the storm- and whispers “peace be still.” He can settle any sea, but it doesn’t mean He will. Sometimes he holds us close, and lets the wind and waves go wild. Sometimes He calms the storm, and other times He calms His child…”


I’ve had this chorus floating through my mind many times in the past few weeks. Perhaps, it is because I experienced first-hand what the disciples experienced in the middle of the Sea of Galilee during the storm, except that I was in the middle of the ocean off the coast of Freetown. THAT story is a testimony to the power of prayer.

A group of us had gone across the bay from Freetown into Lungi, an area directly across from Freetown to attend a church service with one of our local translators. As usual, according to African time, the church service started over an hour late and lasted a couple hours longer than we anticipated. It was a lovely service celebrating the youth in their church with lots of music, dancing, and singing. Unfortunately, a couple of us had to be back to the ship by a certain time that afternoon. The church graciously said goodbye as we “snuck” out of the service early to head back to the ship. We had taken one of the big public ferries to get across that morning, but on the way back a few of us were planning to take a water taxi (speedboat) back to save some time.


For those of you who are unfamiliar with the seasons in west Africa- there are only two. Rainy season and dry season. Rainy season had already started (it usually begins the end of May), and so as we looked across the bay, we noticed some stormy weather on the horizon. Me, being the adventuresome, out-doors girl that I am, suggested that we hurry up and take the water taxi NOW before the storm moved in. The speedboat driver was reluctant, but finally decided to start the journey across the bay to Freetown. That urging was severely regretted later in that trip.

It’s hard to say what exactly happened after that. My friends Timo, Nadine, Anna, and I were all riding along as we sped across the bay on the smooth water in a long, wooden boat seating the total of eleven of us passengers. The sun was shining, the water was smooth, and the storm continued to move in from the East. It looked like we would just make it to the port on the other side as we watched the storm clouds move in. What a naïve assumption on my part. All of a sudden, in the middle of the bay, it began to sprinkle. Laughing over the scenario, Timo, Nadine, Anna and I all quickly covered our belongings and enjoyed the sprinkles of rain. Suddenly, the rain began to get heavier, and the captain passed a large piece of black plastic to us, to cover ourselves with. We all continued to laugh about the ridiculousness of the ordeal, when all of a sudden the rain turned into a heavy downpour and the wind picked up into sporadic, wild gusts in all of about an instant.


The captain slowed down, barely able to see through the sheets of rain, as the ocean waves began to swell. Our faces turned from expressions of humor to fear. As the captain attempted to maneuver the rough, 5-8 foot waves, we were jostled about in the boat, holding on to the plastic and one another for dear life. Nadine began to cry next to me. Timo, behind me, began muttering/praying in Dutch, and I began crying out-“Where are we? Where are we going?”, straining to see our destination from beneath the black tarp.

The wind, now a mighty surge, whipped the plastic in our faces, rain pouring through the tarp’s small holes and tears and onto our already-soaked clothes. A couple of times we hit large waves that splashed salty seawater into our faces. I can still taste the salt. The captain, trying to find his way, circled the bay a few times. Every time he turned against the waves, we struck them, sending many of us 2-3 inches airborne. I again yelled at the driver, trying to decipher our fate, when the Sierra Leonean man sitting in our row turned to us and said “we must pray”. I had already been praying wildly in my head, so the words and cries to Jesus now came out in flood. Nadine, as she quoted later, cried “as a desperate woman, thinking she would die”. I honestly thought to myself, “this is it… this is how I’m going to die- in Sierra Leone”, but my heart fought against the thought! Jesus brought us here to bring life! Not to die! So my prayers became even louder and more fervent.

Finally, after what felt like an hour, the captain found the Freetown dock area, and with the help of huge, muscular Africans, we were helped (or carried!) out of the boat and onto dry land. I don’t think I have ever been so relieved in all my life. We were all praising Jesus and shaking as we walked to the road, got a taxi, and returned to the ship.


My experience put a whole new perspective on the story in Luke 8 where Jesus lay, sleeping in the boat, and his disciples woke him up crying “Master, Master, we’re going to drown!”. What was His response? “Where is your faith?”, and he calmed the sea to their amazement. Sometimes, it seems that God does calm our rough seas-makes our paths smooth before us and bring things nicely together in ways we thoroughly enjoy and are happy to attribute to His hand at work. At other times, however, we’re called not to calm seas, but to brave the crashing of the waves all around us. In my dad’s office, he has a quote posted on his wall that I have always loved. It says “Smooth seas rarely make skillful sailors”. I wonder if it is similar in our lives and the various “storms” that come our way.

I have felt challenged and stretched in enormous ways in the past few months (the last year, really) with the challenge of following Jesus in the things that aren’t so rosy and nice, or the things we wouldn’t necessarily chose of our own accord. The Lord places us where we are for a reason, but it’s up to us to embrace that and find joy in it. I have been struggling, not only through the unknowns of my future, but also in finding joy in the midst of the challenge of starting this new position as Ward Clinical Instructor. I have LOVED the teaching and people aspect, but have been struggling with the detail management and having joy in sitting in front of a computer for hours on end. Yes, there are many moments of enjoyment, but I think my selfish nature has been cropping up big time. Feeling overwhelmed and frustrated, having dreams or expectations unfulfilled in my own interpretation of “perfect timing” have left me feeling discouraged. How terrible that I should pout and complain about the challenge before me - and yet, here I stand.

Sorry that is blog post isn’t one that lifts the spirits or encourages the soul- it just happens to be the reality of a woman’s heart struggling to love and serve Jesus. What I DO know, however, and have been reminded of, is that God is just as trustworthy today as He was yesterday and as He will be forever. May our goal be to glorify His name above all.

To Cry Without Tears

Deepest sorrow; irreplaceable loss. This was the position in which I first met David that evening shift on B ward. He had come in, accompanied by his brother, Moses, onboard the Africa Mercy to undergo eye surgery. Only weeks before, David’s wife, in a fit of anger, threw caustic acid into his eyes, damaging them to the point of complete blindness. After that malicious act, she left David alone with their only son. Prior to surgery, David had been the sole provider for not only his family, but also 5 of his family members. He came onboard the Africa Mercy to have an enucleation procedure; a procedure where they remove all remaining eye tissue from both eye sockets to provide space for prosthetic eyes to be placed later. The pervading atmosphere of sorrow clung to the air around his bed, as he and Moses settled in, met with the doctors and surgeons, and prepared for surgery.

We began our friendship that first evening shift as I welcomed David and Moses to the Ward, shaking his hand and preparing him for surgery. The next day, David underwent his surgery, needing pressure dressings over both eye sockets for 48 hours. After removing his dressings, his eyes continued to slowly bleed, requiring him to stay on the ward for further monitoring. I was working Charge on B Ward most of the days David was there, and his bed (B11) was directly behind my desk. With need of an extended stay, David soon learned all of our voices. Each time he would hear me come into the room he would say “Oh, Hannah”, and greet me (Hannah is the comparable name for “Anna” in Sierra Leone- so most of them just call me “Hannah”), a smile lighting up his face.
It was during those first few days on the ward that the sadness of his story touched my heart ever so deeply.

During one of our day shifts, David was talking over his experience and what had happened to him. As he talked of the past, his job, his family, and his life before, he became overwhelmed with sorrow, and began to cry. I wondered to myself, is he able to cry without eyes? Without tears? I never connected the thought of expressing sorrow with that part of your body, but the depth of its impact dwelt deeply upon my heart. What kind of life does this man have to live for? His brother, Moses, equally impacted by this tragedy, expressed his own hopelessness. “What does my brother have to live for as a blind man in Sierra Leone? The only thing for them here is to beg in the streets.”

Our Patient Life team began talking with David and Moses, trying to help work through the tremendous loss and bring Christ’s hope through prayer and love. Clementine Tengue, one of our Togolese patient life team crew members, worked closely with him, talking with David, praying with him, and bringing music and African worship to the ward. She found a Krio, audio version of the Bible for him to listen to in the ward. He began to interact more with the nurses and translators on the ward, smiling and laughing more and more as each day passed. We began taking him up and outside on Deck 7 with the other patients every afternoon to feel the warm ocean breeze and sunshine. David would count the steps along the 4 stairway route to Deck 7.

Every day as I worked from my desk, I saw this man begin to blossom through acceptance and God’s truth watered with love, scripture, and worship music. One of the most dynamic interventions occurred when Clementine arranged to have a local, blind Sierra Leonean come to visit David in the ward. This man lived in Freetown, completely blind, held a PhD, and knew every secret and hint for coping as a blind man in Freetown. David, Moses, and Clementine visited with him for hours that night, and the spark of inspiration began to flame.

Following that visit, Clementine worked tirelessly to arrange for David to attend Freetown’s school for the blind; crew members and nurses offering to help provide for his tuition. David began to have a new countenance about him in the days following. Every day, we would encourage him. The worship music I would always play from the charge nurse desk brought daily encouragement. A few days before they left, I printed off the story of Helen Keller, and read it with David and Moses. They loved the story, and I gave Moses the copy for them to take home and read as often as they wanted.

By the time David was ready to leave the ship, his face was one full of peace and joy. He had a follow up appointment with Dr. Tertius, a plastic surgeon onboard, for an appointment in September to receive a follow-up surgery to fit him for prosthetic eyes. As he said goodbye to us, all he could do was thank us for our love and support. Tears filled MY eyes as I remember the sullen, hopeless man who first arrived, who now stood before me, transformed by the hope and love of Christ.


I had the ENORMOUS blessing to be able to visit him and Moses at their home in Freetown about a month after they had gone home. I was SO excited! Moses met us and took us to their home.

The first thing David said to me was “hello, B-Ward, this is Anna speaking”, followed by an eruption of laughter by everyone present. He had listened TOO well to me at my desk in front of his bed in the ward!

After talking with them and catching up on how things were going, the first thing David did was show us all he had been learning at the blind school. He taught us his name and the alphabet in braille from his guide sheet (photo above). We all practiced identifying our names and letters!

It was an AMAZING time of seeing the progress and determination of a man who chose the road of challenge in the face of unparalleled adversity. While Mercy Ships often brings physical hope and healing, there is often a greater need for spiritual and emotional hope and healing for so many afflicted by the realities of their lives.
(L-R; Moses, me, David, Greta-another nurse and fellow Minnesotan, and Raymond- a friend of ours).


Thank you all SO much for your continued prayers and support! Truly, you are right beside me, through prayer, making this difference! I am continually being challenged and stretched, along with so many other faithful servants aboard this ship, and your prayers and encouragement are truly what help keep us going.

Specific things to be praying for:

-Continued prayer for our 8-plate orthopedic children- that the Lord would cause supernatural bone healing and straightening, and provide transportation for EACH of them to come back for their second surgery in November!

-Encouragement of heart for many of the long-term staff here. As I’ve gone up the “ladder” of management in my new position, I have seen more and more of how difficult it is to keep heart and stay encouraged in the midst of enormous challenges and disappointments here. Please pray that the Holy Spirit would continue to give us HIS perspective.

-That I would be faithful with each and EVERY moment here- that I would not shy away from work because it is too hard or because I don’t like it.

All I want is to be found faithful.

From then to NOW! :)

Soo…. I think I’ll just stop promising to update my blog within any specific time frame anymore. I WISH I could say that I was too busy holding sweet little African children, listening to music and updating patient assignments, but I’ve actually been really busy with many OTHER things that I have neglected to update you with up to this point! Let me start from the top:

1)I officially extended my Mercy Ships commitment to August 15th after much prayer, thought, and GENEROUS financial contributions of SO many of YOU! :) (I think it's pretty amazing because it's only 3 days off of my original goal of 6 months that I didn't think I'd be able to achieve!)

2)As part of my extension time, a special opportunity came up.
After, again, much prayer, I felt the Lord leading me into a new open position as Co-Clinical Ward Educator along with my partner-in-crime, Kate Wilson (my fellow general ward charge nurse & Aussie extraordinaire!). Melissa Strimbolus, the current Clinical Ward Educator, is completing a 4 year committmentt on the Ship, and leaves at the end of June (next Monday to be exact). That left her job open.

I have always loved teaching and felt a pull on my heart, but needed a further indication from God. The Lord definitely paved the way for me to join the job-share position with Kate as he specifically answered my prayer to raise up a second person for the job. I am SO excited to be teaching and welcoming in the new nurses and look forward to working with Kate on tackling the education of multi-lingual, multi-cultural nurses!

(In case you are wondering, "Clinical Ward Educator" is the position in the hospital that handles all the ward nurse training; orienting new nurses, training charge nurses, training preceptors, and organizing education for the entire health care crew.)

3)I’m also joining a group of teachers in July for a 2-week “summer school enrichment” mission trip to Bo, Sierra Leone (the place where I went in April to visit my World Vision Sponsor child). It is in partnership with a Methodist church in the Washington D.C. area. The connection with this trip is, an old Mercy Ships friend of mine from the Togo outreach (Kristen) who's old home church IS this Methodist church. She had told me about her church's ministry and work with a hospital and child rescue center in Bo, Sierra Leone. I was able to jump in and join a 2-week mission trip that was going to Bo during the time I was going to be in Sierra Leone. AWESOME!

I really wanted to do some off-ship ministry in country with this second trip to West Africa, and this was the perfect opportunity! So I was able to take a 2 week "leave" from the Ship to join the team of teachers to go to Bo.

So, I will be in Bo from July 22-August 6th, working as the team “First Aid Coordinator” and teaching basic English and Math skills to 5-7 year old children enrolled in the school! Gooo Krio!!! That I am {thankfully} rapidly learning!

That's the update for now! I do promise there will be more to come (and pictures! :) CUTE, and AMAZING pictures. :) Stay tuned! :)

The B Ward Family, Part 1

Hello dear family and friends!
I don't even know what to say, except... HOW CAN IT BE 3 WEEKS SINCE I LAST UPDATED MY BLOG??!! I've been working on some vignettes for you about some of the lives of patients here on the ward for about 5 weeks now, and just haven't posted them yet. Many of these patients have now gone from the ward and are now being cared for on an outpatient basis with physiotherapy and post-ops.
As you may have noticed, I usually put false names up for my patients when I am writing their stories. However, when I told them all that I was writing their stories to tell others, they all insisted that I use their real names! Bless their hearts!
So... all the names and faces are real in this blog update. I hope you enjoy this "part 1" session. You can look for another update VERY soon! :)

The B Ward Family, Part 1

I walked down the long, fluorescent lit hallway of deck 3, and onto the hospital. The path of mint green speckled linoleum spread before me as I passed PACU, D ward, ICU, and came closer to my home; my ward. B Ward. I wasn’t working today, but somehow, even on my day off, I found my feet moving towards that beloved ward where my “family” lives. Tonight was no different.
B Ward (techinically the “General” ward) where I moved to from ortho (bone surgeries) was meant to be the center of our “general” surgeries such as hernia repairs and lipoma (fatty tumor) removals. However, because of the need for overflow orthopedic beds, and short recovery time for our hernia surgeries, we didn’t need all of B Ward for our general patients. So, half of B Ward became overflow, long-term ortho patients. These patients needed to stay on the ship for either housing reasons (such as living too far to come back for their post-op appointments) or inability to use their home toilets systems (mostly squatty potties). Squatting with bilateral thigh-high casts is a LITTLE difficult, needless to say. And thus the B Ward family began.


I wish I could take you all down that green tinted hallway and introduce you to each and every one of them. They are SO precious and some have stories that would break your heart. They are all here on Mercy Ships to receive their transformation and healing. Please, come with me now to meet my family…

It was John’s last night on the ward- one of my 10 year old bilateral casted children who was “long-term” living in B Ward. He, his mother, and his little sister Gladys, have become columns of B Ward family, having been on the ship since the first group of orthopedic patients came from upcountry (Bo, Kenema, and Kono) to be treated with surgery aboard the Africa Mercy. He is undoubtedly one you would first notice among the crowd of upcountry arrivals.
His knees were bent so significantly that it looks like he was bending over as he walked. Because his condition was so severe and his surgery much more in-depth than most of the others, he has stayed on the ward with us ever since his surgery in late March.


I remember first meeting John the day of his arrival with the 27 other upcountry patients. As I greeted each of the patients, the typical response was a timid smile and head nod. John, on the other hand, politely answered, “Hello. It is very nice to meet you” in a sweet voice that rang clearly with perfect English. I cared for John intermittently from his arrival through the first week or so after his surgery. It was after that period, when John, his mother, and little sister Gladys joined the B Ward family that we bonded more deeply.


They begin our ward tour in bed B1. John, his mother, and little 1 yr 5 mo. sister Gladys sleep on this bed; John in the bed above, and his mother and Gladys on a mattress beneath the bed. John’s once crooked knees are now straight pillars of white casts, covered with various nurse autographs and drawings. Over the weeks he was on B-ward, he progressed from wheelchair driver extraordinaire to walking with crutches. It was only last week that I heard an “Anna! Look! Look at me walking of myself!” as he walked towards me, crutchless. Tears welled up in my eyes. I praised him; an enormous grin covering both his face and mine as I enveloped him in an embrace. His little sister, Gladys, has also endeared herself to all of us on the ward not only become the ward Houdini by attempting to escape each time the door is open, but also by her sweet personality. One of my favorite Gladys memories is when she ran out into the hall, knowing she had escapted. I called out her name, and she stopped, turned around, grinned and then came running back into my arms! Gladys pretty much became the B Ward mascot (if such a thing were to exist on Mercy Ships). Not only her talent as escaping the ward, but her dance moves that break out from her body every time she hears the song “Waka Waka” by Shakira! Oh the stories I could keep tell about Gladys!


Moving onto B2 is a 17 year old boy, thin and a bit frail, whose smile lights the entire wards. His name is Yayah. He lives on the ship, cared for by his grandmother. His meek, gentle personality mirrored some of his weakness and frailty when he first arrived on the ward, legs bent at the knees, and unable to walk more than a few steps without resting. His grandmother, a feisty old African woman with braided sliver hair, is completely dedicated to caring for Yayah. From helping him bathe, to physically lifting him up and down from the bathroom step; she is priceless to have as the matronly caregiver on the ward. Weeks after recovering from his surgery, Yayah now walks with STRAIGHT legs for the first time in his life- pushing his walker along up and down the ward.


B3 is a 13 year old boy named Mohammed who has become especially dear to my heart. I do not know his whole story, but I do know that he and two of his younger sisters live in Freetown with his aunt. He told me his mom is in Guinea, apparently unable to care for him and his two sisters. Mohammed came to B Ward a few days after his surgery, his aunt staying with him to care for him. A few days later, however, his aunt left, promising to come back in a “few hours”. She never returned for more than a few hours at a time on and off, weeks later. I found out that often, when a parent is unable to care for their children, they give them to the care of their brother or sister. Some of these children are then expected to “earn their keep” through working around the house, performing household chores. I wonder if it was the same situation for this gangly 13 year old who couldn’t read or write his own name. The anger and tears I fought every time I thought of the difficulties of his young life created an even deeper heart of love for this boy. He was very sullen and withdrawn for the first 2 weeks on the ward, but gradually opened up to become a part of the B Ward family.
Like a rose slowly unfolding its petals in the sunlight, this reserved boy slowly opened up to a personality filled with smiles and mischief. Every day, I would sneak up behind him while he was sitting in his wheelchair and envelope him in a HUGE embrace, kissing his forehead. He would fight me, yelling, “No! no!” and try and pull away. Yet, every day I continued loving on this stubborn boy. The boy who left the ward was one I hardly recognized. It was like I could see his hardness melting away each day. He left without warning to me- home to his aunt one evening. I still have no idea of the bruises and scars of his childhood, but I pray that his heart would know the love of this Jesus that he heard so much about on that big white Mercy Ship. (Pictured in the front left in the wheelchair).


B4 is Tamba, an energetic 13 year old boy from Kono, Sierra Leone who has spent his entire life walking on the tops of his feet. I met Tamba at the Hope Center, playing “Stop-Go” (Red Light, Green Light), Tag, and Hopscotch with him and the other children prior to his Ponseti casting and surgery for his bilateral club feet. Watching him run in the games on the tops of his feet absolutely amazed me. You could tell that for him, despite his lifelong deformity, he did not let it get him down. He was quietly resilient. His mischevious grin first met it’s way to my heart when, after his admission to the ward, he and Sahr, another 9 year old orthopedic boy from Kono, were arguing about something as I came to say hello. After a few minutes of yelling backing and forth, Tamba turned to me, crying, “No! She is mine! She be my woman!” Turning to me, he said, “Kono has many diamonds-I give you big diamond”. I met the “proposal” with a rich laugh and teased them back, “No! I am too old! You are too young! MUCH too young!” My reaction was met by an uproar of laughter by both of the boys and all the other patients and local day volunteers who were in the ward. It became our joke after that, and it wasn’t until two or three more “proposals” that the boys decided that neither of them would have me.

These are only a few of the stories of the children and patients I have come to love and cherish as my own family. Stay tuned to meet the rest in "Part 2". :)

There She Was...

There she was. Sitting among the group of children adorned with a dark blue, red, and gold patterned dress; hair completely covered beneath her matching headwrap.
“Can you tell which one is your child?” Dora, my World Vision guide and translator, asked me. And as I stared into all of the faces of the children, fearful I somehow would not be able to recognize that face I had so often studied in the picture above my bed, I saw those eyes and that smile and knew it was her.


I don’t know how many of you are familiar with child sponsorship programs, but organizations such as World Vision and Compassion International (both Christian organizations) have monthly giving programs that go to support children living in impoverished areas of the World. Through your $30-40 per month, you provide a child with food, clothing, the ability to attend school, and the opportunity to hear the gospel.

Ever since high school, the idea of providing a child halfway across the world with the tools and foundations to support and enrich their lives in their communities touched my heart. I remember the first child I ever sponsored was with the help of 2 of my high school friends who, through the three of us, gave money each month to support her for over a year before having another person take over her sponsorship. The Lord had put this on my heart even more deeply after finishing university, but it wasn’t until this last July that I finally stepped out and obeyed that call on my heart. The picture above with my little Mattu is evidence of the amazing ramifications of obeying those quiet calls to our heart.

But it wasn’t the noisy, energy filled tribal Mende community welcome dance that impressed me and my dear Mercy Ships friend, Laura Coles, nor was it even the delightful childrens choir that sang to us from the village school. Instead, it was the sheer awe of what such a small amount of money can do for such a large community.


As I said before, our entire trip to visit the World Vision Bagbo site, took Laura and I to a village just outside of Bo, Sierra Leone (about a 3 ½ hour drive southeast of Freetown). After a night in a local hotel (complete with air conditioning, bucket showers, and exploding light bulbs), we were picked up by World Vision staff Dora, Sheku, and Joseph, who would be our drivers and escorts for the day. We made it to the village Kpangbalia over dusty, washed out village roads in about 2 ½ hours, where we were to meet Mattu and her family. As we drove along this road, sign after sign after sign passed by with “World Vision… Well…” or “World Vision Health Center”, or schools and latrines built by World Vision. Village after village had such signs. World Vision quite obviously had a footprint in the community, as was also evident by the friendly waves and yells of “Hello!” and “Opotu!” (“white person” in krio) as we drove by in the white World Vision landrover.


By the end of the afternoon, Laura and I had experienced the fully spectrum of the community tour of the maternal and child health clinic (photo on preivous page), newly constructed school with latrines, 3 wells, and community fish pond (for growing and building an economy within the village). As person after person and group after group stated, sang, or danced their appreciation of us “sponsors”, I felt increasingly overwhelmed. Who was I to claim ANY of this credit with my mere $35 a month sponsorship? I knew I was impacting the life of a child, but I had no idea the ramification of my small contribution. So many sponsors only dream of meeting their sponsor children. I had that dream plus the overwhelming joy of seeing how the small gifts of so many make SUCH a difference. My heart was not prepared to handle the impact this trip would make. So amazing. So amazing.


And, as an “icing on the cake”, so to speak, Laura and I also had the opportunity to find some of our little 8-plate orthopedic children and check up on them! SOOO amazing! We found all 5 of them who lived in Bo. Here we are with two of them and their little bandaged knees! (I am trying to tell Fatmata to smile with her teeth if you are wondering). SUCH a blessing! Oh my gosh! I was SO excited! I am hoping to be able to see them all when I return to Bo in July.



As far as ship life- the hospital continues to run a bit more smoothly each day, and I must say that I am becoming more and more comfortable in my charge nurse position. I still LOVE my patients and find time to play “Waka Waka” music for them to dance to. My dear friend and bunkmate, Laura, will be leaving all to soon, however, as she prepares to fly home the middle of May. My life we be a bit lonelier without her around, but I’ve been so thankful for our time and adventures together.


To close, I want to thank you all SO much for your support and prayers. Just like my experience in Bo, feeling overwhelmed by impact my investment made, I hope you all experience a little of that with each story you read and way you see patient’s lives changed each day. I am SO blessed by you! I don’t even have words. Two letters I received today from home just made my day. I truly could not do it without you- no matter how big or small your contribution. I covet your prayers not only for myself and the patients, but over the entrie ship and country of Sierra Leone. What an amazing opportunity to be used for something so much bigger than us.