dive in. heart first.

I stumbled across this picture the other day, on a day when life was hurting. Oh, the memory of this photo brings me back to "Dara Day" just days before my wedding, the most glorious day yet. I often think of life and death (I hope that's not weird?) and I think this is the logo I want to live by. 

Life is diving in heart first

On days when life is hurting quite intensely, I think on this. Is it okay to lead with the heart? To dive in with my heart first? I guess the consequence is, potentially, lots of hurting days. 

Today should have been one of those. One of those days that sends me back to bed in sobs. But, you know what? It turns out it isn't because, on this dive with my heart first, Jesus dove right before me. I could almost feel His splash. It was so obvious to me that my heart was right where it was suppose to be. I was in the right spot, still riding on His waves. 

Palliative care shouldn't be an easy thing, no where, ever. But, when we found him in that state and everyone kept just walking past-- a crippled man laying in the dirt. We stopped. We dove in with all our hearts. We laughed together and my heart broke for the tragedy of the culture and the tragedy of the situation. But when She reminded me of the story in Luke of the Good Samaritan we both knew that this jump off the high dive was the right one. His presence was so evident today. Nope it wasn't easy. Not. At. All. But I made it through with confidence knowing that I've done the right thing by diving in heart first. He has met us here and He holds my heart. 

My encouragement to you is this..."Go on! Jump! Dive in. Heart first!" because it's here where you're held and, if you're near enough to Him, you may even ride his waves, and oh, let me tell you, what a glorious view!  

do you see JESUS

Several weeks ago I was going through one of the hardest things I'd felt for quite awhile. I had been asked to visit someone in the village. The problem was that the wound this patient was struggling with smelled bad. Like really bad-- and, in a mud-sauna-like-house, "No, thank you, I'd rather not." Like all his family and the community around him, I'd rather not.

Finally I relented and said yes. And while I was there, even though every ounce of "me" wanted to run and never return, I knew stronger than my fleshly desires, that this is exactly where Jesus would spend his time! I knew without a doubt that we HAD to visit regularly.

As the weeks went by, each day I didn't want to go visit, I never knew if my stomach would be able to cope or not. But, of course, after each visit, my heart grew more fondly of the person. Of the soul that was so desperate and suffering.

Do to logistics,  currently we're not allowed to do much medically but, we continued visiting faithfully and WE WERE PRAYING.

And, dear friends, accept this with utmost humility, my husband just called me. He called me to say that one of his workers came to him this morning to say how much better this patient in the village is. The village is talking about how much better this man is! He has been out scooting around in the wheelchair that someone got him. He is out and about and everyone knows that this is miraculous.

It is my friends, I put yogurt on the wound! Yes, yogurt! And it's healing, it no longer smells and there is fresh pink flesh! Get this Loved ones, he lives in a mud hut. He drinks water from dirty cups. He washes and cooks for himself with paralyzed legs and with only what's within arms reach. His nutrition is minimal. There's nothing significant that has changed to bring about healing. And now, a few weeks later, he's scooting himself around in a wheelchair without having had a single prescription medication.

I don't care that the village is talking about what "we're doing".  Because hear me again, we did nothing more than yogurt, visit and prayer!!!! What I want the village to talk about is Jesus! I want them to SEE JESUS! Because, I thought this one would need an amputation if death didn't come first. I thought it was beyond hope. Do you see it friends? Do you see that this was Jesus? When's the last time that you heard of a wound, exposing bone, that was healed by a bit of yogurt?

Do you SEE it? Do you SEE that it was Jesus?

Let's talk about that!

imagine. real love.

He's only 8 years old.
Most probably he sat along side as his father died.
Then his mother.
In the meantime, I would assume, there was no one there to care for him.
Maybe it was because of fear of the "spirits" of death that had already taken the father.
Maybe it was simply fear of "the disease".
Whatever the cause, he was in "a state."
He was suffering.
Now, thanks to the Lord's healing, he's better.
Not great but definitely better.
And, if you sat with me for just even a few minutes, I'm confident, you'd look into his eyes and feel what I feel.
Feel the need to love him.
Feel the need to do whatever possible to alleviate his pain.
He'd wriggle his way into your heart and you'd be here with me.
And just imagine this being his requests from life.
I asked him, "What can we pray for you when we're at home?"
No toys.
No trips to Disneyland.
Not even ice cream and Fanta.
Nope, plan and simply.
"Pray that God will help me grow well and that I can stop drinking these pills."
No smile.
No selfish desires.
Just the simple request to be average, to grow well and be without disease.
It's sure not fair.
But, I feel so blessed to know him.
So fortunate to love him.
So grateful to look deep in his eyes where, at times, I'm sure I see a reflection of Jesus.
I'm sure of it.
Come, come with me and look deep into wounded eyes.
Because this is real.
This is life
And.
This.
 is.
Love.

standing against pain

And this is why we're here...

So, so similar to life in Mozambique.
Mvura Ya Upenhu (Living Waters) Palliative Care. We want change! Pray for our baby steps.

happy new year

Happy New Year!!

Yesterday Chad and I were asked to share our "story" with a team visiting from South Africa. I couldn't believe the butterflies I felt as for the first time, we shared our life stories together. As we wrapped up I realized that was just the way I needed to start the new year. It forced me to sit down, reflect on what God has done and, through my emotions and tears of the story I realized, again, how good God has been to us. This past year so much happened. There was so much good that happened. There were struggles but it always ends good. As we start a new year, we anticipate much good. Likely many struggles also but, we must always remember that when the time comes when we get to look back, we always see. Always. That it was good! Loved ones, Happy New Year. May you be able to see all the good in 2015!!! xoxo
-Our love

merry christmas from our hearts to yours!

From one of my favorite songs this year. My prayer...

Breath of Heaven, hold me together
Be forever near me, Breath of Heaven
Breath of Heaven, lighten my darkness
Pour over me Your holiness for you are holy
Breath of Heaven

Merry Christmas from the Vanden Bosch's!

xoxo

Breath of Heaven pour over me...

(Breath of Heaven, Amy Grant)

this silent night

My house is quiet.
Like, really quiet.

The hum of the fridge goes unnoticed.

In this city where we more often hear street dogs than frogs, tonight, it's frogs.

He's exhausted,

She finally wore out. 

And, me? I'm thinking. 

I'm sitting here near to the Christmas lights,

I'm thinking. 

As make shift as it may be, it feels precious to me.

Each ornament that was sent, arriving 2 months late last year, is precious.

But more than the romance of the lights

Is my hearts longing to get back to the cradle.

Back to the humble entrance 

The simplicity of the babe. 

Because even here, 

Even with the title of "missionary" I can slip away.

We get busy, even here.

I get frustrated, especially here. 

And, I get lonely.

In this quiet night as I'm thinking

About all the emails I haven't written.

All the Skype calls I haven't made.

How 14 months have passed again and I haven't seen your faces.

I haven't held your hands and I haven't hugged my family. 

I'm missing you.

Under these lights I'm missing you. 

And as beautiful as my life is here,

As much as I'm in love with where we are,

The laying down has to happen again, new, every day.

Jesus in a manger.

Enough for all my pain.

More than enough for every ache of missing.

But still I long,

To have a latte with you,

To eat your Christmas treats,

To pinch your sweet cheeks and tickle your sweatered belly.

To look in your eyes and hear how you are.

To giggle and laugh about memories past,

To slip on the ice and buy some new boots.

To stand in a line where's it's clean,

And I hear a language I understand, all of it. 

The list goes on and on.

My prayer is, 

as we think about that Silent Night,

That that baby who saves is enough,

to make you feel close to me.

And me feel close to you.

May you know I love you.

And may the "simple" be enough this year.
But, although "simple", it is precious.
Even with the missing being hard,
It's worth it, because He owes me nothing,
He came,
He's coming 
And we come together to remember that Holy Night.
Even from far away.
It's what I'm thinking,
as I sit under these lights missing you...

happy thanksgiving

 Dear Family, Friends, Blog-readers, supporters, all of you that I'm thankful for this season,

I realize I'm nearing 2 weeks late on this post....My heart is with you. I want to wish you all many blessings this holiday season. We celebrated a wonderful Thanksgiving together this year, yes, the 3 Vanden Bosch's. Each year I feel I get a bit more desperate for my traditions and, each year I feel we, as a family, get a bit closer to what feels like an American holiday. Sure our turkey this year looked more like a pork chop (odd! We found cuts of turkey drumsticks (not sure where the rest of the turkey goes) but they sure were tasty!) but we feasted. And, I thought. I thought a lot about all I have to be grateful for. I "wrote" a lot in my head but I didn't find time to sit and get it down on paper (or computer). Our gratitude is deep this year as is our anticipation of celebrating the birth of Jesus. As a family we're busy daily reading Ann Voskamp's "Unwrapping the Greatest Gift" (you could have guessed, I know!). And, I feel like through a simple family book written for Nede's understanding, I'm understanding again the love the Lord has for me. More on this later but I just wanted to finally send out our Thanksgiving greeting and send so much love to each of you who extend such beautiful love to us! As we anticipate Christmas Day may you and your family also re-experience the Great Love our Father has for us.

Until time allows more...Many Blessings,
All our love xoxo

thankful

"You know what I'm thankful for this year Nede?"
"What Mom?"
"That we're all finally Vanden Bosch's."
"You know what I'm thankful for? All that God has done for us over the years."
"Me too Sweet Girl!"

every last breath is sacred

Sometimes I feel like my world gets so small here. I have traveled back and forth weekly, daily, in a 20 mile range. I have spoken to the same 15 expats and had the same Portuguese conversation with every Mozambique because that's all my language abilities allow for me. I haven't watch anything outside of kids movie or episodes of the Big Bang theory (I'm not complaining-- bring on season 7) for well over a year. I'm bad at reading the news because the time I take to sit at my computer I get distracted and would rather read a blog or shop through TitleNine. But recently, through some blogs I got sucked into the news and followings of dear Brittany Maynard. For a few weeks I would wake up, Googled her name to see what the latest was. And, like many, my heart broke when I heard that she had died. As a hospice nurse and a strong believer in the philosophy of palliative care and hospice, I got all heated up many evenings as I read the latest. I know that I have only heard a fraction of this story because I'm not in America at the moment to understand what's going on. But I couldn't help but think, why is palliative care and hospice not being spoken of? Why is the palliative care model of "there's never nothing that can be done" not being considered? I know that I've never walked with cancer or had someone closest to me suffer and walk the difficult journey, but as a hospice nurse I have walked with many. And, each patient that I have cared for I have considered it an honor to believe that there's ALWAYS something we can try to alleviate suffering. I have worked with hundreds of amazing people who also believe in this philosophy and have dedicated their lives to palliative care and hospice. I have been taught by many the beauty that we can't always take away the problem but we can ALWAYS walk along on the journey.

Through all of this I have been moved by others who are walking similarly challenging paths of cancer like Kara Tippetts and Maggie Karner. Their approach to their prognosis is completely different than Brittany's. They desire to make the best of every moment that they are allowed. I think they would say that yes, cancer is robbing them of many good things but they are choosing to fight the devastation to the very end-- trying to milk every last drop of goodness from their sweet lives. As a semi-newly-wed I can't imagine giving up even one second that I could possibly have with my husband or any of my family and friends. And, as a hospice nurse, I know there are many with great passion to turn life-robbing diseases into journeys of peace and, quite frankly, filled with dignity. And, when done well, this can be strikingly beautiful.

My perspective also changes as I step out in palliative care here in Mozambique. In a nation where the life expectancy is 49 years old (UNICEF, 2012), where the pain medications available are Tylenol, Advil and diclofenac, I think it's fair to say that there are loads of people here that would willingly sign up for a program that promises to say "we will walk with you and never succumb to saying, 'there's nothing we can do.'" Because there's always something, at least in America, there's always something. I think the difference is that here in Mozambique the attitude is always (or most often) "That's life. What can you do?" Burial after burial all that one can do here is keep walking on in hope. And they do, they are always hoping for more. And, in America the moment we feel like we've lost "control" we fight to gain that control back. When really, we weren't meant to be in control (nor do I want to be in control of my life because, it's guaranteed, I'd goof it up. I hope my life is an example of that, by giving up "my" control and having faith in Him who loves me and always has good planned for me (us). My life is far greater than what I could have accomplished alone.-- that can be another blog:) Each breath is counted, each breath is valued-- whether here, where too many breaths are cut short, or there, where we (try) to "control" our every breath-- every one is held. Every one is precious and every one is Holy.

Try explaining health care options including physician assisted-suicide to a nation with a life expectancy of 49. Life's precious my friends. I only dream of giving people here a few more years, days, seconds of sacred breath.

So, now, as I close my computer, leaving the land of "control" on the other side of the pond, I enter back into my world of a 15 mile radius without the options of treatment or choices. As I do, I pray for those with cancer, those with AIDS, those children dying of malnutrition. I pray that someone near to them will walk closely on their hard journey noticing every breath, holding every moment and recognizing the giver of every good gift.

Because, Dear Ones, they are indeed, sacred. Every. Last. Breath.

Scriptures to consider: Psalm 103, Psalm 139, James 1:17

I pray every last word here is accepted with deep love and care.