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.
