her soul is well

We have a patient on our program that has a mass on her face-- one that's deforming her face, forcing her left eye further and further from it's intended position.

Last week we arrived earlier than normal to our usual meeting point. I was afraid we'd miss our chance to see her this week. We asked the neighbors how she's doing. Their response was, "Worse. She's getting worse. The mass is growing and her eye is worse. It's not good."

Of course, this made me want to see her all the more. My thoughts were that maybe she's now having systemic problems and she's not able to make it up the hill to see us. Next week we'll have to trek down the valley to find her at home, were my thoughts.

As we were leaving someone came running to stop us. Wait! Our patient had arrived. She came scurrying over to us. She apologized to us for being late. She was busy preparing a gift for us. She gave us a bag of, still warm, maize (corn on cob) she had boiled for us. She emptied a bag of sugar cane before us and gave us a whole bucket of flour which she had ground herself.

We thanked her endlessly then asked how she was, with the mass noticeable different from the week prior, she joyfully responded, "I'm doing great. I'm getting so much better!"

Oh, bless her! Her friends see it, her neighbors are talking about it, we see it. The mass is growing rapidly. She's not getting better. And, I can't BELIEVE that doesn't hurt. It must.

But you see, there's just one thing that keeps her positive, one thing that is a blessing she doesn't have.

A mirror.

She hasn't seen that her face is becoming more dis-formed every week. She's not watching it grow. She's not looking in her crooked eye and hoping for a visual change.

It's an example of when I think her lack, is really, her blessing.

When I have a pimple, in my vanity, I'm in pain and constantly worried about my appearance-- what other's might think. Over a pimple! (And sometimes it HURTS!)

It makes me wonder, makes me think how much added pain, suffering and distraction our culture has by the simplicity of a mirror. How much does that shiny glass change my self-image? How does that affect how I feel? What changes about me-- mentally, physically, emotionally, accepting myself spiritually? All because of looking myself in the eye. Regularly.

I wonder. I wonder what would be different, for me to not have a mirror?

I wonder what would be different for our patient TO have one.

Her smile is still beautiful. She came bearing gifts for us. Yes, her SOUL is WELL. Praise the Lord no one is telling her differently. Her quality of life is perfect-- without a mirror.

The Lord bless her and keep her this way for as longs as we can, is my prayer.

Swedish Fish and hard lessons

When the Swedish Fish are gone, I begin to panic, slightly. You see, there are few things that we bring from the US that I save for a bad day (or week). I had one bag of Swedish Fish from April. In July, Chad asked how long I was going to keep them. My response, "There's probably a worse day coming, I'm keeping them for that."

Well, my friends, they were opened recently. And polished off very soon after. There were some bad days. Not bad like "poor me, get me on the next plane out". Just hard situations, hard stories that hadn't been personal until recently. Difficult things that you think, "wow, what people go through!"

Now, as I reflect on the last few weeks, with the bitterness of brokenness still fresh on my tongue, I'm grateful for having to be forced to slow down. Maybe being in bed with malaria was a sweet thing? I was made to stop, remember the beauty, I was refreshed by the Word, and reminded that in our weakness then He is strong (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Even more, I was grateful for the hard of life here. Because, in America, I rarely was brought to this point-- to where I am forced to say, "Oh Lord, help! In and of me, I can do nothing right now. I need you Lord." When 911 is a call away, the clinic is there to properly diagnose, every baby is, or can be, delivered in the hospital, etc, etc, you just don't find yourself in the position often of saying "Oh, Lord, I need you". It's because of this I'm grateful.

Oh, LORD, I need you... has been a common cry these days. And in that, He's there. He helps. He whispers, "All will be well again. Come my daughter, stand, we'll walk together and my mercies are new every morning."

He promises..."weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning." Psalm 30:5

And it does. And sometimes, it's a blessing to weep. And to know that, in and of myself, I'm nothing and I know it. And it's okay because He is and that's a beautiful thing to really learn and grow through. 

And, it's also nice to eat Swedish Fish while learning these lessons. :)

Tribute: grace- a young girl of courage

A Tribute to an eleven year old girl should never have to be written. It's with a grieving heart I write:

The face that belongs to these innocent hands would break you-- leave you wondering if there is any good in the world. It's the question we'll all ask God when we have the opportunity...why did she suffer and die so young?

At first I was pleased that she was our first patient who came home with medications that started to resemble comfort medications. But then later, when symptom built upon symptom, she wasn't able to swallow what she had and we had nothing else to offer. It's at this place, my dear friends, where you're brought back to dust and remember where you've come from. You HAVE to depend on God, if we didn't cling to words like, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. " 2 Corinthians 12:9, we wouldn't last.

 Grace. Grace got us, the family and this dear little girl into Glory.

The joy that she brought to us was, in my weakness, not having anything to offer of myself, I asked her, "What can I do for you? What do you need?" She had me figured out with her response. She, with her eyes closed in distress said, "I want leggings, a pair of shorts and a pair for shoes! Please bring them tomorrow." Ha! She got me, not the response we were expecting!

Of course we brought her requests, the least we could do for this little girl who would never walk again, or have the strength to try any of her new things on. I don't have a big miracle to share but there was much grace that accompanied this story. What a privileged it was to empower and encourage the family to keep caring well for her at home. What a privileged it was to watch the family resist the cultural temptation to bring their beloved to the witch doctor (which surely would have meant increased suffering). When neighbors and "friends" told them they were bad parents for not doing more for their daughter, we were there to tell them they were doing EVERYTHING a loving parent would do. They, in the end, honored their daughter's wish of staying home and being were she could be most comfortable.

This little one had courage. More than I could ever muster.  We will not forget her because of it. There was much honor and love in her life and death.

And grace.

Tribute: You were valued

This is one of the harder "Tributes" I've sat to write. Not because of your life or death but how those around you treated you in the process. For that I'm sorry...

It was a honor to know you--
Much seemed held in secret.
Really, we were called too late.
We all had hope,
Especially when your brother decided to help.
You started taking treatment, and you too found hope again.
But, the progress wasn't fast enough, you got discouraged.
I don't know all that happened--
what was and wasn't spoken.
But our hearts broke when we saw your decline.
We hope you knew we cared.
We were there and we lifted you in prayer.
Over and over, we held you up with our prayers.
We're sorry we didn't get to know you when you were vibrant and well.
And, I'm sorry for the pain that was and seemed to bind, until your death.
It was no mistake that we were called to you,
We pray you knew, through our love, that you did matter,
You're life had value.
I'm sorry the pain and brokenness in your family was so great that it was hard for them to care.
They need the Healer too,
He's the only one that could take the pain away.
Our heart's cry is that you found Him, in time.
We're glad we got to laugh with you.
What an honor it was to care.
And we did.
You were valued.
You were.