“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.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
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~
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~
Friday, July 22, 2011
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! :)
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! :)
Sunday, July 17, 2011
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~
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~
Friday, July 15, 2011
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.
“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.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
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.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
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! :)
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! :)
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